The Birth of Guyver V
by Cyblade Silver
Summary: In Colorado, a new Guyver is discovered, Sean and the ACTF begin to take more losses than they inflict, and Imakarum Mirabilis tries to balance being a father with being a Chronos Lord.
1. Normal days and Mondays

_**Disclaimer:**__ I don't own Guyver; Stargate: SG-1 or anything else you might see in this story. Oh, but I do own Ryan and Ingriam. And Howard, too. Many thanks to my beta, Polished Quill, for the final going-over of this story._

**The Birth of Guyver V**

It was a completely normal day. Or, it would have been if not for the fact that his class had decided to go on a fieldtrip. It wasn't that he minded this turn of events—in fact, he was glad about it, since being in the outside world was always better than being shut up inside a dark, stuffy classroom all day.

Ryan, running a hand though his short, fiery red hair, looked around for the other members of his class. Ryan Crouger; that was his name. The entire class was out hiking around one of the high, forbidding cliffs that stood like lonely sentinels at the far edge of the small city where he lived. They were a nice place to visit, but he was glad not to live there.

No doubt about it, though—this place is a lot more interesting than any of those mind-numbing "lessons" any day of the week. _Ryan grinned and started walking again. He always tended to fall behind on outings like this. His mom often thought that it was because he didn't want to hurry up and risk missing any of the sights, but Ryan just thought it was because he wanted to delay his inevitable return to school._

Either way, variants on the same situation had been played out every time Ryan had been sent out on a trip with his classmates. Little did he know just how much he was about to be delayed. Kicking a pebble, then kicking the rock that it had landed next to, Ryan made another half-hearted attempt to find the rest of his class.

He was currently standing on the edge of a broad, flat, rocky plain. Looking around, he found that there was nothing really interesting about this particular place and so felt confident that he didn't need to pay that much attention to his surroundings. That would prove to be something of a mistake.

As he was making his way across the plain, Ryan didn't take any notice of the fact that there were small cracks spider-webbing the surface under his feet, and the ground dipped slightly under his weight as he walked deeper into the center of the plain. He was too focused on how much he didn't want to go back to school to even notice.

It was only when the ground literally fell out from under him that Ryan realized that something was wrong by then it was already too late. With a yelp of extreme surprise, Ryan fell into the underground cave that he had inadvertently discovered. Then the ground slammed into him with brutal force, and Ryan knew nothing more…

The first thing Ryan noticed as he struggled back to consciousness was the stabbing pain radiating upward from his left hand. Looking at the afflicted hand, he found that there was a sharp piece of rock sticking through his palm. Since his right arm was stuck under a small pile of rocks—which hurt like a son of a bitch now that he thought about it—he brought his left hand up to his mouth and clamped his teeth down on the shard of rock.

Pulling it out, Ryan spat the shard into a small pile of rocks off to his left. Then he pulled his right arm out from under the rubble that had been piled on top of it.

"Ahh! Shit!" Ryan shook his arm out, trying to get it to stop hurting so much.

Deciding that finding help was a pretty good idea, Ryan got up and started to walk, knowing that he wouldn't be able to climb back up and out of the hole. And even if he could, the sides looked too unstable to risk doing something like that. Looking for any source of light, he saw something flash just a few feet in front of him, but it was way too dim to be anything resembling an exit.

In fact, it looked almost metallic, no matter how weird that might sound to someone else. The thing—whatever it was—seemed to be wedged in the rock somehow. As his eyes became more adjusted to the darkness, he could see that it wasn't like anything he had ever seen before. For one thing, there was a small silver half-sphere placed like a bull's-eye in the center of something that Ryan couldn't quite make out at the moment.

In fact, if Ryan had been asked to describe what he was seeing right then, he'd have said that it looked vaguely like a dartboard. Crouching down in front of the dartboard-looking thing, he reached out to touch it. The outer edges were slightly warm and sort of squishy—at least where they weren't covered over by smooth metal.

But when he reached the center, where the flashing thing was, he only had time to register that it was warm before the entire thing exploded into a mass of writhing tentacles. The tentacles quickly enveloped him, and he tried in vain to pull them off. As they covered him completely, he screamed as he felt them digging into his skin like they were trying to pull him apart, and the pain was nearly unbearable.

After a few more minutes of that, Ryan blacked out.

XxXxXxX

The Guyver's Control Medal flashed twice, and the newly activated Guyver unit rose to its feet. The first and last thing that the Guyver's biocomputer mind could recall was bonding to its new host, and as it scanned the host's brainwaves, it found that its host was unconscious at the moment. Not possessing the sentience necessary to worry at the moment, the Guyver scanned the interior of the cavern it was now standing in.

Finding an exit, the Guyver headed for it. Scanning the brainwaves of its host again, the Guyver found that the human—a male—was just starting to regain consciousness.

XxXxXxX

As Ryan slowly came around, he started to notice that he was walking. That was weird enough, but after taking a quick look down, Ryan's definition of "weird" was quickly revised: his left arm, left leg, and left foot—in fact the entire left side of his body—was covered in some kind of insectile gray armor. Looking at the right side, Ryan found that his entire _body_ was covered in the stuff.

Bringing his hands up to touch his face, he found that while he could still feel things with his fingers and the palms of his hands, the sensations were… distant somehow. It was like his senses were being amplified, while at the same time diverted through something that was taking the edge off of what he was sensing.

It was a weird thing to think, but that was evidently what was happening. Stepping around a pile of rocks, Ryan suddenly remembered that there were going to be a lot of other people looking for him once they noticed that he was missing. It might have been interesting to see just what this armor stuff could _really _do, but if anyone saw him like this it was sure to lead to all kinds of unanswerable questions.

And Ryan wasn't even completely sure himself how he'd ended up covered from head to toe in the stuff in the first place. First he tried to peel it off, but all he managed to do was open one of the chestplates, and when he checked to see if the other chestplate would open the same way, he found that it did. Running his right hand—the one that wasn't occupied with holding open his left chestplate—over the inside and coming away with some kind of goo on his fingers, Ryan rubbed them together. It felt like some kind of mucous.

_Okay, now this is getting kinda gross,_ Ryan thought, looking at the mucous he'd collected. _I wonder how you get this stuff off?_ As soon as he had that thought, though, the armor peeled off and disappeared behind him. Turning quickly, he saw the glowing form of the armor turn transparent and seem to just vanish into the air a few feet back from where he'd been standing.


	2. Beyond the Norm

"Oh…kay," Ryan said, staring at the space that the armor had just vacated. Then, remembering that he didn't have all day to just stand around and stare at things that weren't there anymore, Ryan left.

Turning and walking out of the cave, Ryan shook his head—this was all just too weird. Once he got out of the cave, he saw most of his classmates searching around the rocky plateau for something and had the distinct feeling that he knew what—or rather, _who—_they were all looking for.

"Hey Tom-boy, what's the haps?"

"Ryan?!" Thomas Jamison turned with a nearly audible snap, looking right at the person who the entire class was currently trying to find.

They'd all seen the huge hole in the ground, and when their teacher had done a head-count and come up one short, the inevitable conclusion was drawn: one Ryan Crouger, the red-haired smartass, was missing. Once the teacher had stopped panicking long enough to think, she had organized the entire class into a search party.

Now, seeing the object that said search party had been looking for standing right in front of him making wisecracks as he usually did, there was only one thing that Thomas could do: tell the teacher that their search was over.

"Come on," he said, pulling Ryan along by the arm. "The least we could do is go tell the rest of the idiot brigade that you finally decided to show up."

"Hey, d'ya think I actually _wanted_ to end up stuck down that hole?" Ryan demanded, annoyed at the implications he heard.

"Well, now that you mention it, probably not," Tom admitted.

"All right," Ryan said decisively. "Let's get out of here."

"I'll go with that," Thomas said.

The two of them made their way back to the rest of the class, whose reaction to seeing that Ryan was back was just about what Ryan had expected: mostly unenthusiastic. He wasn't exactly the most well liked person in the class, if not the school in general, and if he'd cared, he might have wondered why that was. Then he would have probably come to the conclusion that his lack of friends was mostly due to his sarcasm.

But since none of that mattered to him, Ryan just ignored the cool stares from his fellow students at his return. What Ryan _was_ curious about, though, was the weird organic armor that had been hidden in the cave. It wasn't as if a lot of people would have thought to look in that cave, and it really did seem as if that armor _wanted_ to be found.

On the other hand, though, it could be that whoever had hidden the armor in that cave hadn't wanted it to be found at all. While it had seemed like the _armor_ had wanted to be found, whoever had buried it in that cave had probably had other ideas. Or maybe there was no real reason other than coincidence that the armor had been in that cave when Ryan had fallen into it.

Ryan sighed. _Well, back to the yawn-and-snore emporium. At least something exciting happened today._ That thought managed to make Ryan smirk a little, and Tom turned to ask just what his friend found so funny.

"What's the happy look for, Ry? We're going back to _school,_ if you somehow managed to forget that," Tomas said.

"Tom, first chance I get, I'm going to tell you about something seriously bizarre that happened to me today," Ryan said.

"You gotta know I'm going to hold you to that, Ry," Tomas said.

"You gotta know that's just what I expected," Ryan shot back.

They had made it back to the school bus by now, and the fact that he was going to go back to school was finally brought home. Rolling his eyes with exaggerated disgust, he climbed onto the bus with the rest of the kids. Most of them ignored him, but a few shot him hostile looks, as if it was his fault that he'd fallen into that cave and made them go look for him.

When the teacher turned away to check something or other, Ryan flipped them off. _They're bastards anyway, so why should I care if they like me or not? _The answer was that he shouldn't, and that was why he didn't. The ride back was mostly in silence, with the occasional muttering that Ryan didn't care enough to pay any attention to.

Pulling out his CD player, Ryan popped it open and found that he still had his _Rent_ soundtrack inside. Closing it and putting on the headphones, Ryan hit "play," skipped forward until he found track nine, then hit "repeat." The drums, electric guitars, cymbals, and Mimi's voice filled his ears, drowning out the sounds of his fellow students, and he began to move with the rhythm of the music pumping in his ears, staring at the passing scenery outside the bus window.

As the bus made its way back to the school, Ryan had to firmly shove his urge to start singing into a mental closet and bolt the door. If there was one thing that would get him into trouble with the teacher, it was belting out show tunes at the top of his lungs—not so much for the singing itself, but for punching the other students who didn't appreciate the performance. Either that or telling them to go fuck themselves, both of which would get him sent to the principal's office.

Ryan had spent enough time there of late, but it was really only because he had gotten fed up with being surrounded by idiots and given one of them the royal ass-kicking he'd been begging for for a long time. The principal and the guidance councilor both thought that the fight had been some sort of cry for attention, though how they had managed to come to that supremely idiotic conclusion when he'd even told the guy to stay the hell away from him Ryan was sure he'd never know.

But then again, most of the people in that stupid dump probably couldn't tell their heads from their asses without a lot of help. So maybe that was why Principal Dumbass and Mr. Touchy-Feely couldn't get something that simple. Maybe it was something in the water, which made Ryan grateful all over again that his mom always had the good sense to pack him bottled water.

As the bus pulled inevitably closer to its final destination, Ryan sighed—he hated this place with a fiery passion reserved for very few other things, but his mom had insisted that he needed to stay so he could get a good education. So Ryan dealt with the morons as best he could. His "therapy" involved lots of music, turned up so loudly that he had trouble hearing anything else, a comfortable bed, lots of sleep when he could get it, karaoke when he could make the time for it, and every kind of food that he liked to eat. His mom was a great cook when she found the time for it, and his dad practically had the number of Round Table Pizza tattooed on his forehead, so Ryan was pretty well covered when it came to food.

Bored now with Mimi's "Out Tonight," Ryan switched over to Mimi and Roger's duet "Another Day" and sighed again as he started to recognize the landmarks that meant that they were almost back at the school.

When the bus pulled back into the huge parking lot, Ryan hauled himself out of his seat with a sigh of pure annoyance. So much for his hope that the bus would break down somewhere. As he waited for the rest of the bus to clear out, Ryan started absently messing with the strap of his watch, and once the bus was empty, Ryan made his own way out. The shouts and other noises made by his fellow students were dulled to almost nothing by the music pumping in his ears. He was swaying to the beat, so he didn't notice that one of his least favorite people was coming toward him: Detrik Johanson, the single most annoying guy in a school that, as far as Ryan was concerned, was full of nothing but pinheads, morons, twits, and various other breeds of loser.

Ryan stretched with almost catlike grace, closing his eyes as he yawned, and only noticed Detrik when the larger boy gave him a shove in the chest, nearly causing him to fall on his butt. Ryan did manage to keep on his feet, though. Glaring at the offending bastard, Ryan sighed in disgust when he saw who it was, turning off his CD player and taking off his headphones, handing them to Tomas as his friend came up to him.

"What's your problem _now_? Or are you just too stupid to understand the concept of common courtesy?" Ryan chuckled nastily. "Or maybe you're just desperately uncoordinated."

Detrik looked like he wanted nothing more than to pound Ryan's face in for that remark, but the presence of the other kids and the teachers who were helping shepherd the remaining students back into the school convinced him that fighting would not be a good idea.

"Meet me out at the back of the blacktop after school," Detrik ordered, pointing at Ryan.

"How about you kneel down, pucker up, and kiss my ass," Ryan shot back, sounding almost bored with the proceedings.

"What are you—chicken, carrot top?"

"Okay; first rule: never call me carrot top," Ryan said irritably. "Second rule: sit on this and spin, you stupid son of a bitch."

With that, Ryan flipped Detrik off, reclaimed his CD player from Tomas, and walked away. Detrik fumed for a minute, then caught sight of one of the teachers who was still herding the few remaining students back into the school. He knew that he had better follow one of them if he didn't want to end up getting in trouble again.

Ryan tucked his CD player back into his bag, zipping it shut and slinging the bag over his shoulder in almost one fluid motion. Making his way back to the school, slightly behind the other students wouldn't have any ideas about trying to talk to him, Ryan started to fiddle with the strap on his watch again. _So much for anything interesting happening today. Well, aside from the obvious, of course._

Ryan chuckled, not really caring if anyone was close enough to overhear and wonder about it.

XxXxXxX

Once the last of their classes had let out for the day, Ryan and Tomas made their way out of the school. Ryan was slightly annoyed that tomorrow was Tuesday rather than Saturday, but since he didn't have the power to bend time, there was really nothing he could do about that.

"Okay Ry, spill," Tomas demanded. "Why do you still look like the cat that ate the canary? And this even in spite of the fact that we have four more days of school to suffer through?"

"Something really interesting happened to me today—something that even being stuck in the yawn factory can't make me forget," Ryan said, smirking.

"All right Ry, you've piqued my curiosity," Tomas said. "So tell."

"It's a hell of a story, Tom-boy," Ryan said, always the one to go for the big build-up, even when he wasn't sure what had happened himself.


	3. Midnight wanderer

It was half-an-hour past midnight when Ingriam received the order to report to Dr. Balkus for further examination. He had been told to expect something like this and so was quick to leave the comfort of his bed and follow the telepathic signal. Looking over his shoulder, he saw that Lord Imakarum Mirabilis was still asleep. Not understanding entirely why he felt a connection to the Twelfth Zoalord, Ingriam almost stayed to think about the matter, but his better judgment made itself known, and he turned away to head for Dr. Balkus' laboratory.

It was not his place to question the orders or directives of his superiors, and Dr. Balkus was one of the most prominent. The soft sound of his bare feet on the floor was magnified by his own enhanced hearing, and the young Zoalord only hoped that Lord Imakarum would not notice the sound and be awakened by it.

Dr. Balkus had given very explicit instructions to keep his existence a secret from Lord Imakarum. Ingriam was not sure why, but orders were orders, and he would not disobey one of his masters. The trip to Dr. Balkus' laboratory was thankfully short, and Ingriam knew when Dr. Balkus wanted him to enter.

XxXxXxX

Sensing the mind of Ingriam, Dr. Balkus commanded his creation to come into his laboratory. The boy Kenji Murakami may have been Lord Imakarum's son, but Ingriam was entirely his, and in the event that the improvements that he had made to that infuriating rebel Masaki Murakami were not sufficient to keep him loyal to Chronos, Ingriam was his secret weapon. If the former Twelfth Zoalord had not been executed by Lord Alkanphel, Dr. Balkus would perhaps have thanked him for taking the boy.

At a telepathic order from Dr. Balkus, Ingriam laid himself on the examination table. This was the second month since Ingriam—or rather, young Kenji—had made the suggestion to improve the immune systems of the Twelve Zoalords so that they would recognize Aptom's invading cells as a virus and react accordingly. As Dr. Balkus had expected, Ingriam himself had volunteered to become the test-bed for this new modification. Dr. Balkus had been—and still was—concerned that altering the immune response of a Zoalord might very well render them immune to the retroviruses that were used to create and improve them.

Dr. Balkus wanted to be completely certain that the alterations he had made to Ingriam's physiology would not render the young Zoalord a Lost Unit. Not only would that have been very suspicious to Imakarum, but it would also mean that there was no real way to protect the Zoalords from Aptom's absorption ability. That alone would be annoying on a professional level, since it would have reduced the Twelve Overlords to the level of common Zoanoids when it came to dealing with Aptom.

Dr. Balkus was well aware that only a Lost Unit could resist commands from a Zoalord,

so he intended to test Ingriam's response to negative physical stimuli. He would attempt to maintain a firm hold on Ingriam's mind so that the boy would not be able to move or resist. Removing a scalpel from the tray next to his hand, Dr. Balkus took full control of Ingriam's central nervous system, then ran the sharp point of the scalpel across Ingriam's chest.

The young Zoalord did not even flinch from the discomfort he must have felt, and while he knew that was a positive sign, he was not going to place his faith entirely on one single event. Taking hold of Ingriam's right hand, Dr. Balkus dug the point of the scalpel into the soft flesh of Ingriam's palm—deeply enough to draw blood—but only a single drop was spilled before Ingriam's enhanced healing sealed the wound closed.

Again, there was not even the slightest reaction. Dr. Balkus was becoming slightly more confident about the chances that the improvements would prove to be of use to the Lords of Chronos. Still, it was always best to be completely certain of a situation before proceeding. With that in mind, Dr. Balkus eased Ingriam's mouth open and pressed the tip of the surgical tool into the young Zoalord's tongue, watching dispassionately as a thin trail of blood trickled deeper into Ingriam's mouth.

It seemed that the boy had not become a Lost Unit after all.

XxXxXxX

Imakarum, reaching out to pull Kenji closer to him, brushed his hand over the body-warmed sheets where his son had been sleeping and sat up, glowing golden eyes sweeping the room while his other senses reached out to locate his son, just in case Kenji had merely gotten up for a glass of water or something of that nature. But no—Imakarum could sense that Kenji wasn't anywhere in the room anymore.

Levering himself out of bed, Imakarum performed a light telepathic scan, searching for Kenji's distinctive mental presence. Finding his son in Dr. Balkus' private laboratory again, Imakarum narrowed his eyes—he would have to speak to the doctor about that, since it was really getting ridiculous. Picking up his visor and settling it back over his eyes, something that by now had become a habit for the Twelfth Zoalord, Imakarum left his room, his long strides carrying him quickly down the hallway to Balkus' personal laboratory. The door was closed, but like all of the Chronos Overlords, Imakarum possessed the access code. Keying it in, Imakarum stepped through the door almost before it had finished opening and saw Kenji sitting on the examination table, seeming completely unharmed, with Dr. Balkus apparently just finishing up with him.

"Hey, Dad!" Kenji called, waving once Imakarum had come into his line of sight. "What are you doing here?"

"I could ask you that same question, Kenji-chan," Imakarum said easily, stepping up to the examination table and placing his hand on Kenji's chest. "I think you should get back to bed now," he added as he teleported them both back to his room.

"All right, dad, but what are you going to do?" Kenji asked, tilting his head in that childishly curious way that Imakarum would never get tired of.

"I'm going to have a talk with Dr. Balkus," Imakarum said, turning away from the bed where his son now sat and teleporting back to Dr. Balkus' private laboratory.

Once he was back in Dr. Balkus' laboratory, Imakarum folded his arms over his chest and regarded Chronos' top scientist with a glare that was only partially hidden behind his opaque black visor.

"What were you doing with my son?" Imakarum demanded. "This is the fourth time this month that you've called him in here for one of your late-night examinations. Is there something still wrong with him that you're not telling me about?"

"There is nothing wrong with your son," Dr. Balkus said calmly. "I was just making completely certain that the last of Aptom's invading cells were completely purged."

"While I do appreciate your thoroughness, Doctor," Imakarum answered, gritting his teeth for a moment, "I would prefer that in the future you tell me when you want to see my son for any reason. And for the last time, stop calling him to your lab at this time of night! He may not physically be a child anymore, but he still needs his rest."

"There is no more reason for me to examine your son, Lord Imakarum. As I have told you, all of the impurities within his body have been purged."

"Good," Imakarum said finally, nodding and teleporting back to his and Kenji's shared room.

Once the last of the dimensional interference had cleared from his vision, Imakarum walked back to the bed where they had been sleeping. Kenji had already lain back down by the time Imakarum had made it back to their room, and Imakarum smiled benevolently down at his son before he climbed back into bed. Slipping off his visor, Imakarum placed it back on the table by their bed.

Once Imakarum was back in their shared bed, Kenji cuddled up to him the way that he always did, and Imakarum smiled again, more reflectively this time. He might have had the body of a twenty-five year old man, not to mention most of the powers of a Zoalord, but Kenji was still Kenji and still his baby boy.


	4. Dreams and Aftereffects

Ryan, finally back at his house after what had seemed like an eternity at school, lolled on the couch bonelessly. He wasn't even doing anything right now—not reading one of his large collection of Calvin and Hobbes or Get Fuzzy comics, not watching one of his many anime tapes—just lazing on the couch with his eyes closed. Ever since he had gotten out of the caves, Ryan had felt somewhat lethargic.

At first he had just chalked it up to the fact that he'd still been at school, but now that he was at home and able to relax, he pretty much expected the lethargy to go away, since he didn't intend to spend all day lolling around, of course. He still had things that he wanted to do—things that didn't involve staring mindlessly at the ceiling or falling asleep on the couch—but as he lolled back on the couch and spaced out, it was really hard to remember just what those things were.

Closing hiseyes for just a minute, Ryan laid his head back on the soft pillows. _Just need to rest my eyes for a minute…_

"Ryan? Ryan, are you just going to sleep the rest of the day away? You haven't even had your shower yet."

The calm, kind voice of his mom broke into Ryan's semi-conscious mind, waking him up as surely as if she had rung a gong in his ear, albeit a great deal more gently. Rubbing his face with the back of his hand, Ryan blinked as he saw his mom leaning over him.

"Howwzat?"

Norma Crouger, long used to translating her son's "it's-too-fucking-early" speak, chuckled softly. "It's about six o' clock, Ryan. If you're going to take a shower today, I think you should go do it now. Your father wants to take one today, too, and for that matter, so do I, so, I'd really appreciate it if you would go take your shower now."

"Mmmkay," Ryan muttered, still only half awake.

Norma shook her head in fond exasperation: Ryan could be a little strange sometimes, but he was still her son.

XxXxXxX

Yawning, Ryan made his way down the hall, a path as familiar to him as his own feet, so there wasn't really a pressing need for him to pay attention to exactly where he was going at the moment. Blinking to try and wake himself up more quickly, Ryan continued down the hall that led to the bathroom, and by the time he had made it to the room itself, he was much more awake than he had been when he had started out.

Pushing the door open, Ryan closed it behind himself and started to strip off his clothes. If anyone had been standing behind him when he took his shirt off, that person would have seen the blistering, tumor-like growths on his back, and if that same person had known about the Guyvers, he would have found the marks on Ryan Crouger's back very familiar. But there was no one there to see the marks right now, so Ryan continued undressing in peace.

Once he had gotten fully out of his clothes, Ryan opened a drawer on the far right side of the sink that held a large collection of his CDs. Pulling out a freshly-burned copy of Rent, though this one had only the songs that he liked the most. He stuck it into the CD player and turned it up just enough to keep him from falling asleep before he got to the shower.

Once he was inside, it wouldn't be so bad, since the falling water would keep him awake, if only just enough for him to be able to wash up. He still didn't know quite why he was so tired all of a sudden, even after he had ended up sleeping for most of the afternoon. It was really weird, but as he yawned again, he made up his mind not to think about it anymore.

It wasn't like he had any really pressing responsibilities at the moment—any homework he had could be put off till the end of the week, and there was nothing that he had planned for the rest of the day that couldn't be done another time, preferably when he didn't feel so goddamned tired. The music was helping some, so he was able to keep himself awake when he was still outside of the shower.

Once he got inside the shower, the splatter of heated water woke him up more quickly than the music had, but like the last time, it was only temporary, and Ryan was soon starting to doze again. Soaked to the skin from the falling water, he began to wash up. Once he was done with that, he washed his hair, then leaned back and enjoyed the hot water splattering all over him. With the way he was feeling at the moment, it would have been really easy to fall asleep in the shower.

He knew that would be a bad idea, so he fought to keep his eyes open and stay awake, shaking the excess water from his hair as he stood back up to let the hot water rinse off the paltry remains of the soap that still clung to him. Turning off the water, Ryan squeezed the remaining water out of his hair, trying to keep awake longer and stepping out of the shower and grabbed his towel.

Drying himself off quickly, Ryan hung his towel back up, turned off the CD player, and headed out the door to his room. Yawning again, he tried to keep his eyes open for the short time it would take him to make it to his own room—he was at least moderately successful with the effort.

Once he was back in his room, Ryan headed instinctively for his bed, all but asleep on his feet and swaying like a drunk as he walked. He didn't stumble once, but he did come pretty close to doing so. Collapsing on top of his bed, he closed his eyes for a minute, then, before he could get comfortable enough to fall asleep entirely, crawled up onto his bed and slithered up under his covers. With one last, jaw-cracking yawn, he plopped his head down on his pillow and quickly fell asleep.

XxXxXxX

_Ryan was most acutely aware of the pain in his left hand at first—that and the soreness currently spreading over most of his front. Okay, so maybe it hadn't been one of his better ideas to start playing that game of kick-the-rock with himself. Hauling his body off of the cave floor, though it really felt more like he was peeling himself off the ground, he shook off the rock pile from his arm._

_As he pulled the shard out of his hand with his teeth, he noticed the glowing thing stuck in the cave wall. It was kind of interesting, in a what-the-hell-is-that-thing kind of way. Hell, it was even interesting enough to let him ignore the pain in his arms—well, mostly. Getting back to his feet, he walked over to the glowing thing, all the while trying to ignore the blood dripping from his hand._

_Having water dripping from his hand was bad enough, but this was warm and sticky, two feelings he really hated when they were combined with each other. He almost had to laugh at himself for thinking that: here he was bleeding from the hand and all he could think about was the fact that he didn't like the feel of blood on his hand. His mom was right, he was weird._

_Still, it wasn't like he could really do anything about the fact that his hand was bleeding—at least not right now. He'd probably be able to take care of it once he got out of the cave, but for now there was something else to occupy his attention. It wasn't more important, just more immediate. Poking the outer edges of the thing, he was slightly surprised to find that they were warm and squishy._

_It just wasn't something he'd ever expected to feel while touching something that was imbedded in a freaking cave wall. Moving his hand around the outer edge, he was again surprised to find that his fingers encountered a raised metallic ridge. The metal itself was warm, and that was when he made up his mind that he wasn't going to be surprised by anything else that he found while he was examining this thing, whatever it turned out to be._

_Moving his hand towards the center of the thing, he came to the end of the metal casing and ended up touching the squishy part again, though he'd made up his mind not to be surprised by anything that he found while examining the thing, he was still somewhat surprised by that, and when his searching fingers again encountered a warm, metallic piece, he paused. Feeling around this new protrusion, he discovered that it was round, just like the rest of the thing. That was kind of interesting. Tapping on the metallic half-sphere with his pointer finger, he heard a soft clicking sound. Intrigued, he tried it again—there was that same clicking noise again._

_Bored, he pressed down hard on the small metal dealie in the center of the round whatever-it-was. The click was a lot louder that time, but that wasn't the only difference: the round Whatsit burst into a huge mass of writhing tentacles, long, cold, slimy tendrils that wrapped around him from head to toe. His clothes were soaked through by the cold slime within seconds, and Ryan had a brief moment of annoyance about that._

_But that was before the cold, slimy tendrils started squeezing him tighter and tighter. Ryan could feel the round metal dealie nuzzling itself against his forehead, and for a minute Ryan wondered just what was going on with that. Then he started to feel another set of tendrils crawling across his face. The things felt like they were maybe a little thinner than his pinkie finger._

_Two of the tendrils shoved themselves into the tear ducts of Ryan's eyes, and when he opened his mouth to scream, one of the larger tendrils shoved itself down his throat. The smaller tendrils crawled across his face again, and two more of them shoved themselves into his ears; then another pair forced themselves right up his nose. Ryan thought that he fell to the ground after that, but it was kind of hard to tell with him not being able to feel anything at all._

_As the slimy Whatsit curled tighter around him, Ryan felt more of the large tendrils crawling across his stomach. Three of them dug into his abs, punching their way through his navel and wrapping around his guts. Ryan was pretty sure he screamed after that, but it was hard to tell, since he was passing out at the time…_


	5. Going offschedule

Norma Crouger, seeing her son still dozing, smiled indulgently. It was always nice for her to be able to see Ryan when he wasn't quite awake, with his red hair still mussed up from sleep and that adorable, hazy look in his green eyes. Norma always felt good when she saw him like that, but she also felt a strong maternal urge to protect him, since Ryan always looked so vulnerable when he was sleeping, and there was no way in hell that she was going to let anything hurt her son.

Now, though, it was time to get him up to go to school, and she walked over to his bed. "Ryan," she called softly.

"Iurgmzzzat," Ryan muttered, meaning 'I hate mornings'.

"Ryan," Norma called again, almost laughing

"Gowway," 'Go away'.

"I'm not leaving this room until you get up, young man," Norma said, trying to sound stern while holding off laughter.

"Nogginup," 'Not getting up.

Laughing softly, Norma whipped the covers off of Ryan and got ready to pull him out of bed, but when she saw the sores on Ryan's back, she stopped cold. Staring in disbelief at the blistering lesions on her son's back, she pulled up the covers just enough to keep him warm and then touched one. It was hard and leathery and didn't feel much like human skin at all.

Worried now, she touched the other one and found it had exactly the same hard, unnatural feel as the first. Pulling the covers up all of the way, she hurried out of Ryan's room. There was no way on Earth that she was going to let her son go off to school when he was so clearly not well. Norma also needed to call the hospital and make an appointment, hoping that Ethan was there, since their old family doctor was very good at what he did. He was also a close friend of the family, and she trusted him implicitly.

XxXxXxX

When Ryan finally returned to the land of the living, he was surprised that he felt so genuinely rested. Normally, his mom would pull him out of bed, and he'd end up getting dressed and ready for school in a sort of semiconscious daze. Now, though, he felt better than he ever had. Even on a weekend, when he could sleep all day if he wanted to, he didn't feel that good.

Hell, he didn't even feel the need to stretch and work the kinks out of his muscles, but he did anyway, just because that was what he always did when he first woke up. Glancing over at the clock, just out of morbid curiosity since he was sure he was abysmally late by now, Ryan saw that it was already ten. Normally classes started at eight sharp, hence the need to get out of bed by seven thirty.

Unless today was a weird day, Ryan was sure that he had just missed a great deal of allegedly important class time. Ryan could give a flying crap about that, but he did wonder why his mom hadn't shown up to drag him out of bed. Not that he was complaining or anything; he was just kind of curious. Leaning back against his sheets and blankets, Ryan saw with some surprise that his mom was coming back into the room.

"Ryan? Good, you're awake." His mom seemed to be more relieved by that than Ryan really thought she should. It wasn't as if he'd never taken a shower and then gone to bed before. She moved quickly over to his bed and laid her hand on his forehead. "Well, you don't have a fever, that's good. How are you really feeling, though?"

"I feel fine," Ryan said earnestly. "Better than I ever have, in fact."

As soon as those words were hanging in the air, Ryan felt a slight chill. Maybe he'd just been watching too much Stargate: SG-1, but that sentence always seemed to be a prelude to badness. Sometimes only a small amount, sure, but mostly the badness invoked by those fateful words was badness on an epic scale. Saying them was practically inviting the Irony Gods to smite the person stupid enough to have spoken them. At that thought, though, Ryan had to laugh at himself—he was really getting paranoid in his old age.

It was probably nothing.

"What's so funny?"

"Me," Ryan said, still chuckling. "I've definitely been watching too much Stargate: SG-1. Every time anyone has ever said something like that, it's either because they've been infected by a Goa'uld or something equally horrible."

"You're right, that generally is the procedure," his mom laughed. "Well, since things like that generally don't happen in this universe, I think you're covered."

Ryan started laughing then, and it wasn't long before his mom had joined in—watching Stargate and its spin-off TV series Stargate: SG-1 was one of his favorite things to do with his mom.

XxXxXxX

Luggnagg de Krumeggnik, holding the progress reports from Chronos Los Angeles, smiled secretively to himself: everything was going just as he and the others had planned. Their stronghold at the Los Angeles branch had not been discovered, and if he, Khan, and Hiyern had anything to say about the matter, it never would be. Moreover, the other Overlords were all too preoccupied with the problem of the Anti Chronos Task Force to be much of a hindrance.

Still, there was the small matter of Imakarum and his son. Imakarum was fanatically loyal to Alkanphel, something that Krumeggnik found rather odd, given the fact that Murakami had seemed to want nothing more than to rip the entire Chronos organization apart with his bare hands. Khan had even talked at one point of perhaps recruiting Murakami to their side, re-processing him into a full Zoalord, and then setting him loose on Chronos. The son would have perhaps been an asset as well, or at the very least been useful as a hostage, but now none of that was possible.

Sighing, Krumeggnik continued walking. He would have to destroy the progress reports that he currently held, since they were sure to give away the plan that their group had worked on for so long. That was, after all, the entire reason that he had volunteered to inspect the Los Angeles branch personally; fortunately for him and the others, Krumeggnik had become rather adept at falsifying Chronos documents. Thinking back to what he'd seen at the Los Angeles branch inevitably brought back thoughts of Commander Gyou.

It was really most unfortunate that the former Regional Commander had died back at Mt. Minakami, since the man's almost complete lack of subtlety had made him a very good cover for their own clandestine activities. It would be that much more dangerous for Krumeggnik and the others to pursue their own agenda with him gone, and Khan would doubtless be worried about that. Hiyern would of course suggest that they put off their activities until they had gotten hold of the new situation.

Krumeggnik was personally of the opinion that life, especially an eternal one such as that enjoyed by all Zoalords, was for the risking. What possible entertainment could be had from playing things safely, especially when one possessed such powers as theirs? Alkanphel was not, after all, the omniscient and all-powerful god that Balkus and Imakarum liked to paint him as.

Thoughts of Imakarum led almost automatically to thoughts of the younger Mirabilis, Ingriam. Rather fitting, actually, Krumeggnik thought, since the child was basically an appendage of his father. Still, he could perhaps be a useful pawn, provided they were very cautious in how they went about that—even he wasn't eager to risk the wrath of Mirabilis the elder if the other Zoalord found out that they were threatening his son.

It was an odd thing to think about, given that Imakarum's son was not yet seven years old—odd, at least until one met and spoke with him. Ingriam had all the habits and mannerisms of a child. And also, the boy still possessed every scrap of the naïve trust that had gotten him kidnapped by the late Commander Gyou in the first place. Krumeggnik often wondered why Mirabilis the elder did not take the initiative and simply purge the boy's mind of those useless and potentially dangerous attributes.

It was a puzzle, but at the moment not one that Krumeggnik was particularly interested in solving. He had other things to think about, not just falsifying the reports from the Los Angeles branch; he also had to make certain that his own branch, Chronos Africa, was functioning with just enough efficiency to keep the other Zoalords off his back. Khan and Hiyern were of course doing the same.


	6. In Sickness

Ryan sat in the doctor's office, shirt off, waiting for Dr. Nathaniel to arrive. The two weird growths on his back, between and just slightly above his shoulder blades, had worried his mom enough that she had taken a day off from work, and pulled him out of school for the day. Ryan thought it was just some rash, but he was still happy to have a day out of school.

Finally, the doctor made his appearance.

"So, Mr. Crouger, what seems to be the problem today?"

"There are these two _things_ that grew on my back. Mom noticed them this morning," Ryan said. "Could you just tell her that this is just some rash that's going to go away?" Ryan smirked. "Or maybe you could tell her that it's an infectious rash that'll take about five weeks to clear up."

Dr. Nathaniel laughed. "You'd _like_ me to do that, wouldn't you, Ryan?" He laughed again. "All right, turn around you little wiseguy. Let me see these _things_ you speak of so eloquently."

Ryan turned around, displaying his back to Dr. Nathaniel, who, on his part, nearly choked on his own tongue. _This isn't any rash!_ Touching one of the marks on Ryan's back, Dr. Nathaniel found that he knew _exactly_ what he was looking at. It was impossible, but there it was, sitting right in front of his eyes.

_I thought all the Guyvers had already been activated! _But Dr. Nathaniel knew that what he was staring at were unmistakably the marks that a Guyver unit left on its host. _Boost-stimulus tissue—that's what the higher-ups call it. It's what connects the Guyver to its host. Using the host's brainwaves, the Guyver stays in contact. That's what I was told._

Staring at his patient's back, Dr. Nathaniel wondered just what to tell Ryan. His first loyalty had to be to Chronos, but there was also the matter of Ryan Crouger and his family being some of his best friends. He had been Ryan's doctor ever since the boy had been a baby, having helped to deliver Ryan when he had been born.

Dr. Nathaniel could still remember the boy's bright green eyes, opening suddenly and trying to take in everything at once. He didn't usually take a personal interest in his patients, but he and Norman Crouger – Ryan's father – had gone to medical school together. Norman had even invited him over to Ryan's coming-home party, and he'd stayed close to the family ever since.

All of this was running through his mind as Dr. Ethan Nathaniel stared down at the boost-stimulus tissue on Ryan's back. At last, taking a deep breath, he realized just what he had to do.

"I'll be back in just a few minutes; stay here," Dr. Nathaniel said, making sure that his voice sounded normal enough not to arouse any suspicion on the part of his patient. Ryan trusted him, but there were limits to such things.

"Whatever you say, doc."

Looking back one last time and wanting to somehow ask for Ryan's forgiveness for what he was about to do and knowing that he couldn't, Dr. Ethan Nathaniel walked out of his examination room to find a phone and call Chronos—and find a fast-acting sedative.

Ryan, sitting alone in the examination room with his shirt still off, was of course completely unaware of the nature of his doctor's absence. He was just beginning to get bored when Dr. Nathaniel came walking back into the office, carrying a syringe filled with some kind of fluid.

"Are you sure I need a shot, doc? I mean, it's probably just going to clear up if I put some lotion on it."

"Ryan, you're just going to have to trust me, okay?"

"You're the doc, doc," Ryan smirked. "Still, are you sure about this?"

Dr. Nathaniel didn't answer; instead he stuck the point of the syringe into the vein that ran through Ryan's right wrist. Hitting the plunger, Dr. Nathaniel watched as the powerful sedative drug was released into Ryan's bloodstream. Ryan's eyes started to flutter as the drug took effect, and Dr. Nathaniel caught the red-haired boy just before he would have fallen back onto the medical table. Instead, he slowly, gently lowered Ryan down to rest on the table—it was the only thing he could do for the boy, after all.

Once he was sure that Ryan was fully under the effects of the sedative, Dr. Nathaniel opened the door and strode out into the hall.

"He's all ready for you," the doctor told the two Chronos operatives that had been waiting outside for just that kind of news.

"Good. We'll take it from here. Thanks for calling this one in, doctor." The men both nodded respectfully to him before they filed into the room he had just left.

The two men came out just a few minutes later, carrying the limp body of Ryan Crouger. Thinking for a moment, Dr. Nathaniel decided to follow them. The two Chronos operatives didn't seem to think much of his decision at first, simply taking it for granted that he would soon be leaving them to go tend to his other duties. When Dr. Nathaniel continued to shadow them beyond what they considered to be a reasonable distance, they turned to confront him.

"Don't you have somewhere else to be, doctor?" the leader asked.

"The welfare of my patient is my highest concern, and that boy is currently still my patient," Dr. Nathaniel answered, hoping that was convincing enough.

Apparently it was, since the two Chronos personnel turned away without saying another word; it was good to know that he could still tell lies that were convincing enough to fool Zoanoids when he needed to do so. Following the two of them out into a deserted corridor, Dr. Nathaniel watched as, without a word or a look at each other, they entered another empty hospital room, set Ryan down on the examination table, and began looking over him.

He would have to find something to say to the boy's father—some way to convince him not to worry over the safety of his son. That would be a challenge, especially when it inevitably came time to try to convince Ryan's mother that he was safe and that she shouldn't worry about him. Convincing Norma Crouger not to worry about her son was about as easy as holding the Pacific Ocean in a burlap bag.

There was also the matter of her infamous temper, something that Ryan had obviously inherited from her. It was easier for Dr. Nathaniel to deal with hot-tempered people, since he could just wait for them to calm down before he talked to them, but Ryan and Norma Crouger were two of the calmest people that Dr. Nathaniel had ever met—even in spite of Ryan's sarcastic wit—until someone somehow managed to get them really angry, and then you were in serious trouble.

Norma's pale greenish eyes could turn as icy as a frozen lake when she was angry enough, and Ryan's had that same tendency. It would not be pleasant to try and face the woman in that state, but maybe if he met with and convinced Norman first, Norman would be able to convince his wife and hence spare Nathaniel the trouble.

He saw that the two Zoanoids were now loading Ryan onto a gurney, so he stepped out of their way and let them do their job. That was in fact just what he was doing now: his job. It was his duty to report anything of importance to his employers at Chronos, from humans that were ideal candidates to be processed into Zoanoids and Hyper Zoanoids, to a Guyver who had just appeared in his examination room, even if that Guyver's host also happened to be the son of his oldest and best friend. His first loyalty was to Chronos; that was just the way things had to be.


	7. And in Secret

As Gregole loaded the red-haired kid who was the newest Guyver onto a gurney and strapped him down, he decided to add a bit of extra insurance against the Guyver's escape. The kid looked like he was completely out of it, but in Gregole's experience, one could never really trust a Guyver. Removing two pairs of handcuffs from his satchel, he quickly slapped them onto the kid's wrists and snapped the other halves closed around the railings of the gurney. It probably wouldn't do shit if the kid woke up while they were transporting him, but it did do something for Gregole's peace of mind.

Looking up, he saw that his fellow Zoanoid, a Ramochis, was now carrying a blanket. Before Gregole could even ask what it was for, the Ramochis had draped it over the kid and was smoothing it out over his arms and legs. The blanket covered the handcuffs nicely, making it obvious just why the Ramochis had gotten it in the first place.

"Nice idea, Ram," Gregole nodded.

"Thanks Greg," the Ramochis said.

With that, both Zoanoids left the exam room. They were dressed like a pair of hospital orderlies for this mission, so they didn't look that much out of place in there. Catching sight of another group of Zoanoids—three Vamore this time—Gregole and the Ramochis strode calmly over to their fellows.

"Is that the kid? He doesn't look like much," the first Vamore said.

"Yeah, this is him," Gregole assured him. "Besides, you got the same reports about that Fukamachi kid that the rest of us did. You can't say _he_ looks much better than this one."

"Yeah, I guess you have a point there, Greg."

With that acknowledgment, the five Zoanoids continued to walk in silence. This hospital had been staffed with a few of the lower-ranked processing techs, but no one had ever really suspected that something as important as a new Guyver would ever be reported by this lower-rung place. One thing was for sure, though: old man Nathaniel was in for a serious promotion after calling this one in.

This, as far as the five Zoanoids were concerned, was a very good thing, since old man Nathaniel at least treated the Standard Zoanoids like they were something other than expendable cannon-fodder. It would be nice to have someone who halfway cared about them working in the processing division with the other techs. There were a few people curious enough to ask about the kid they were transporting, but just telling them how sick he was deterred all of those people.

That was another advantage to working in a hospital: any of the longer disappearances could be explained away as just a more difficult case. And if there were a few mishaps during the processing, altering medical records was easy for Chronos.

It wasn't all that easy for Gregole to keep himself from smirking at all the humans who were walking past, going about their practically meaningless lives. Chronos would change all of that, of course, giving the humans something to _really_ live for, beyond all the small and petty things that caused so much trouble for everyone. Looking down again at the kid who was the newest Guyver, Gregole found himself wondering just what was going to happen to him.

Chronos didn't like Guyvers as a general rule, so that brought up the question of just what they were going to do with the kid once they had him. Gregole didn't like the Guyvers much either, but he had really only heard rumors about them, and besides all of that, the kid had just become a Guyver. It wasn't really fair for Gregole to judge him based on the stuff two other guys had been doing.

Besides, this Guyver was going to end up working for Chronos anyway, so that was one more reason not to hate him. _And_ _he kinda looks like my kid brother,_ Gregole chuckled to himself. It was hard to take anyone as a serious threat when they looked like someone you had seen dragging a teddy bear all over the house or running around in diapers. Of course, his kid brother was a lot younger than this kid was.

They were almost at the parking lot, Gregole noticed, so he got a better grip on the side of the gurney that he was holding. Two of the Vamore folded up the wheels of the gurney, and the other three quickly and easily took the weight of the gurney. There was a transport truck waiting for them, parked unobtrusively in the middle of the lot and made up to look like an ambulance. Gregole had to smirk at that, since it was sure to get them to their destination a hell of a lot faster than a normal truck.

There was no conversation between the five Zoanoids as they made their way to the "ambulance" with their burden. The kid was starting to move a bit, but not really enough that any of them were concerned about it. After all, there was no way that the kid was going to wake up before they got to where they were going. Now that they were all standing in the disguised Chronos transport, the two doctors who had been waiting inside the truck stepped forward.

"Thank you for getting him this far; we can take it from here."

And with that, the two docs started pulling the gurney into the truck. Gregole and one of the Vamore helped them to hoist the gurney into the truck, and then all of the Zoanoids turned and walked back into the hospital.

XxXxXxX

Dr. Travis Alvers, another one of the lower-level processing technicians that worked for Chronos, stared down at the red-haired boy who had somehow come into the possession of a Guyver Unit. Since the two Guyvers from Japan had disappeared during the raid on the base at Mt. Minakami, Chronos had been sure that there would be no others to oppose them. Then this boy had showed up.

Dr. Alvers' coworker, Dr. Benson, picked up one of the tanks of knockout gas that had been prepared for the boy's transportation and, lifting his head, fixed the breathing mask over the lower half of his face. Dr. Alvers heard a soft hiss as the gas was turned on and saw the boy give a mild sort of twitch as he presumably struggled to regain consciousness. It was a futile gesture, of course.

This gas had been specially mixed by Dr. Balkus to keep the boy unconscious without killing him, and there was no way that the boy would ever be able to rouse himself before they all had reached Chronos. Under the blanket that had been draped over the body, Dr. Alvers caught sight of the handcuffs that one of the Zoanoids had affixed to both of his wrists and wondered just which one of them had done that.

It was a noble gesture, but it would probably have been futile if the boy had somehow managed to fight off the sedative and wake up.

"What do the higher-ups want us to do with him?" Dr. Benson asked, mildly curious.

"They want us to get him to the base in Denver. Beyond that I don't know," Dr. Alvers said, loading the second tank of knockout gas onto the shelf within easy reach.

The rest of the drive was in silence as the two doctors continued to watch over their unconscious charge. Once their truck had parked, the two doctors and one Guyver were escorted into the base at Chronos Denver. The Zoanoids at this base were the standard models for this part of the world, unlike those at some of the other bases who were imported from the other branches of Chronos.

A pair of Donlun helped to remove the gurney from the back of the truck. As the two humans and two Zoanoids wheeled the gurney out into the parking lot and from there into the Chronos Denver building, they didn't say a word. What was there to say, really?


	8. Mourning and Exultation

It was raining again, but in their current shapes, neither Bio-freezer nor Felinos felt the cold drops of water pelting them mercilessly. They stood, each holding a bouquet of long-stemmed red roses, in front of the row of graves in the back of the house where they were staying. It was the only real place where they could be safe, so despite all of the bad memories that it now held, the two Lost Numbers continued to stay.

Felinos, by silent consensus, was the first to start laying out the flowers that he had brought, his large, viciously clawed hands surprisingly gentle as he went about his task. Once Felinos was done, Bio-freezer stepped forward as Felinos stepped back. Each grave now had two roses resting on it. Looking over all of the elegantly carved wooden grave markers, the eyes of the two Lost Units rested almost instinctively on the one that was different from all of the others.

What made that particular marker stand out so clearly was the fact that while all of the others were carved with elegant precision, that one had been written on with a black permanent marker. It wasn't that the two Lost Number Zoanoids didn't care about their lost comrade; it was just that neither of them possessed even a fraction of her woodcarving skill. Looking over Danielle Sorenson's grave marker, Bio-freezer and Felinos couldn't help but wish that she had survived her own Lost Unit processing, as well.

"They didn't deserve this," Felinos muttered sadly, his catlike eyes downcast.

"Yeah. But then, neither did we," Bio-freezer muttered.

Both Lost Units, standing next to one another in the pouring rain, sighed as they continued to stare at the graves that held the remains of their friends, neither at all bothered by the rain. Felinos didn't feel the cold, and the low temperature was almost comfortable for Bio-freezer.

"So what do we do now?" Felinos asked, just to fill the silence.

"We do what the others would have wanted us to do: we fight Chronos."

"That's what I thought you were going to say," Felinos muttered, grinning and displaying his mouthful of slashing, inch-long teeth.

The two Lost Units headed back into the house once they had finished paying their respects.

XxXxXxX

Back at Chronos, in one of the more well appointed rooms within the sprawling underground area of the Dead Sea Plant, one of the only real survivors of the Mt. Minakami disaster was resting; the doctors and other scientists who had survived the cataclysm had all been killed one way or another after the interrogation at Cloud Tower. Hearing the door to his room being pushed open, the black-haired man lying on the room's only bed turned to look towards it, wondering who had come to visit him.

"How are you feeling this morning, Zektor?" an unassuming-looking woman asked as she walked into his room; Zektor noticed that she was carrying a clipboard.

"My bandages itch, my butt hurts, and I'm bored," the former leader of the Hyper Zoanoid Team Five grumbled.

"I can see how that would be a problem for someone like you," she commiserated, and Zektor saw that she was looking at the pitiful stump of his left leg.

"What type are you?" Zektor asked sharply, not wanting to deal with pity from a human if he could help it.

"Sharru," the woman—or rather, the female Zoanoid—answered said calmly.

"You're a Sharru?" Zektor asked, looking at the woman more closely. He noticed that she had short black hair, though a little tuft of silver was visible at the front. "I've worked with your type a few times," Zektor said appreciatively. "Even faster than Zancrus, and, as a bonus, your type actually has _hands_," he snickered, and Sharru, seeing the humor, laughed herself. "So, did you just come in to check up on the invalid, or was there something you wanted?"

"Dr. Balkus wanted me to update you on the status of your request," Sharru said as she walked over to Zektor's bed and presented him with the clipboard.

"I see the doc took my request for extra weaponry seriously." Zektor chuckled again as he looked over all the notations that Dr. Balkus had made on the paper that was attached to the clipboard. "I'm going to be sure to be able to do some serious damage to that bastard Zoanoid-eater with these. I just hope he doesn't manage to get the drop on me again."

"That's one of the things that Dr. Balkus wanted me to tell you about," Sharru said. "He's provided you with a form of defense against the Aptom virus."

"_Please_ tell me you're not just pulling my leg," Zektor said, an eager grin spreading across his face.

"No; I'm just reporting what Dr. Balkus told me."

"Well, if the doc says it, then I know I can count on it. Come on—let's go." Zektor gestured for Sharru to give him his crutch. "I want to thank him personally."

Nodding, Sharru stepped over to the table by Zektor's bed and plucked the Hyper Zoanoid's crutches from their resting place. Handing them to the former leader of the Hyper Zoanoid Team Five, Sharru watched as he made an effort to get back to his feet, almost tempted to offer him some help, but she clearly remembered how proud the old Hypers were. Zektor probably wouldn't _want_ her help in any case.

Once he was back on his feet, Sharru walked back to the door and opened it for both of them, waiting until Zektor had made it out the door before she turned and followed him. Closing the door once she had made it out of Zektor's room, Sharru caught up to the injured Hyper Zoanoid and wordlessly accompanied him to Dr. Balkus' office. There had been something else that Dr. Balkus had wanted her to report to Zektor—Sharru was almost certain of it, but at the moment was unable to recall just what that extra piece of information had been. And Zektor's happiness had an infectious quality about it. Watching him practically skipping down the corridor with that big cat-that-ate-the-canary grin on his face, Sharru forgot all about the fact that she had been ordered to report another fact to Zektor along with the modifications that Dr. Balkus wanted to make to his body.


	9. Teacher, Creator and Student

Looking back at the computer display—the one that displayed the basic information on his Zoanoid model—Kenji almost started fidgeting. The waiting had always been kind of hard for him, but he liked to think that he'd learned at least some patience. Dr. Balkus had been showing him how to refine the design of his Alvix Zoanoid, but then he'd left, and Kenji didn't know why, though he was doing well on his own.

The computer was making a strange humming sound, but when he'd tried to ask one of the technicians about the noise, no one else had seemed to hear it. So Kenji had tried to ignore it as best he could, but it was still bothersome. Looking up as the sense of another Zoalord nearby washed over him, Kenji saw that Fried'rich van Purg'stall was walking towards him.

"Oh, hi Fried'rich!" Kenji called happily.

"Hello, little one," Fried'rich said, smiling. "Hamilcal told me that you were attempting to design a Zoanoid of your own?"

"Yeah." Kenji nodded happily. "I'm going to surprise dad with it. Do you think he'll like it?"

"I am certain that Lord Imakarum will be very satisfied with your design, little one. What are you going to call your Zoanoid?"

"Alvix."

"Alvix," Fried'rich repeated, sounding like he was thinking about something. "That is an interesting designation. Did you think of it on your own?"

"Yeah, I thought of it all by myself," Kenji said, looking very happy with himself.

"Well done then, little one." Putting his hand on Kenji's shoulder, Fried'rich looked at the Zoanoid design displayed on the screen. "It seems to be a very sound design that you have created."

"You really think so?" Kenji asked eagerly.

"Yes, child. I think it could even be a counterpart to Gregole and Ramochis in the Japanese Sector."

"Wow," Kenji said with a smile. "You really think that my design could become that widely used?"

Fried'rich smiled as he nodded. "It is a rather basic design, even as Ramochis and Gregole are, so it stands to reason that this Alvix of yours will have a comparable processing success rate."

Looking back at his Zoanoid design, Kenji felt Fried'rich pat him on the shoulder, but before the other Zoalord could leave, Kenji turned to him.

"Do you think you could maybe stay with me, Fried'rich? I know you probably have a lot of other things to do, but do you think you could take a little time off? I don't want to be alone," Kenji admitted.

Fried'rich considered the child sitting before him, for that was what Lord Imakarum's son truly was: a child. In spite of the fact that Imakarum's son appeared to be the same age as his father, it was at moments like this that Fried'rich could truly appreciate what Ingriam Mirabilis was going through. Placing his hand on Ingriam's left shoulder, Fried'rich mentally pulled one of the many unoccupied chairs over to them.

From the way he smiled, the child seemed to be content with that.

XxXxXxX

Grumbling as he stalked down the hallway and occasionally swearing violently at the few Standard Zoanoids that didn't get out of his way fast enough, Zektor made his way back to his room. He was pissed, primarily at old man Balkus for not personally telling him about the side effects that his little 'procedure' had, although he did have a fair amount of ill feeling for Sharru, since she had evidently been told to tell him that in the first goddamn place.

Smacking a particularly slow-moving Standard Zoanoid upside the head with the crutch gripped in his right hand, Zektor kept moving after he'd managed to regain his equilibrium. When he finally made it back to his room, Zektor threw the door open and stalked inside, slamming it shut behind him. He stalked over to his bed, threw himself down on it, and roughly flung away his crutches.

_Great. Just great. Of all the stupid non-choices I could have been stuck with, this has to be the worst of them. Either I just let it all go and let that bastard Zoanoid-eater get away with turning all of my friends into his own personal buffet, or I… _In the end though, Zektor couldn't even bring himself to finish the thought. As he was, Zektor was one of the most powerful – and therefore respected – Hyper Zoanoids in the entire Chronos organization.

The problem was that Neo-Zektor, which was what old man Balkus was going to name him once he'd gone through reprocessing, was going to be a Lost Unit, and everyone knew that Lost Units were the worst, most unreliable kinds of Zoanoid that existed. Aptom was a Lost Unit, and even a Standard Zoanoid could see just how untrustworthy _that_ rat-bastard was. So that was the thing: Zektor could stay as he was, a Hyper Zoanoid, and just forget about what that… that _thing_ had done to his friends, or he could go through the procedure and end up just like him.

Sure, it would be the ultimate form of irony to see Aptom getting his ass kicked by another Lost Unit, and getting reprocessed was really his best – if not his only – chance of getting his revenge on Aptom. Still, there were principles to think about here: Lost Units, while some of them were at least marginally useful, were mostly a bunch of stupid, one-off freaks. Slumping back down on his bed, Zektor wondered just what one of the other guys would do in this situation.

If he'd been the one to be absorbed instead of Elegen, would that have made any difference? Would Elegen have been willing to go through with a procedure that, while it would give him the sheer, overwhelming power that would be needed to get his revenge, would also end up turning him into something not that far removed from the thing he wanted revenge against? Zektor shuddered briefly as he remembered something else that Dr. Balkus had told him.

It'd been an offhand comment, as if the doctor had been too preoccupied with something else that he'd been preparing for to spare more than a few minutes' thought for what Zektor was going through. That hadn't felt so good. The fact that Sharru had been there with him, lending him her support had made him feel a bit better about what he was going to do, but that still didn't change the fact that he would die if he went through with the procedure.

The risk of dying in combat was one that Zektor faced every time he went out on a mission, but it was something entirely different when it was your own biology that was going to do you in. Then it wasn't a matter of luck or skill or who wanted to survive more; it was waiting until your cells couldn't handle any more stress and just stopped working. Turning to lay on his right side, facing away from the door, Zektor continued to think about the choice that he'd been given.

XxXxXxX

For a minute, the kid had looked as if he'd been about to wake up, so Galma had injected him with another dose of sodium pentathol. The kid had settled back down quickly after that, leaving Galma and his fellow Galma to push the gurney into the waiting transport plane. For a minute, the lead Galma wondered just what was going to be done with the kid, but all Lord Caerleon had said was that he was important to Chronos, and Galma knew that he wouldn't be getting any other answers.

Still, it was kind of interesting to think about why this kid was being taken to the ultra top-secret Dead Sea Plant. Then, deciding that he wasn't going to spend any more time thinking about a question that he was probably never going to get an answer to, Galma pushed the kid's gurney into the plane. There were techs who could take care of the kid in there, and Galma was more than ready to write him completely out of his life.

XxXxXxX

Once the doors to the hold had closed, the Ramochis who had been pulling the gurney with the red-haired kid on it moved behind and started pushing. The kid wasn't going anywhere, what with all the tranquilizers he'd been given when he'd been inside Chronos Briton, and the extra dose that one of the Galma had given him had clinched it in Ramochis' mind. Of course, that didn't mean that he was going to remove the restraints.

The red-haired kid had been switched over to a different bed sometime during his mock-examination in Chronos Briton. Or, at least that was what Ramochis had been told by one of the Galma as they had shoved the bed into the plane. Ramochis hadn't really cared to know just where the restraints had been put on, just so long as they worked, which, since the kid was so heavily sedated, they had a very good chance of doing.

Pushing him into a medical isolation tent, Ramochis locked the bed he was on into the heavy restraints that had been bolted into the wall and floor—the restraints would keep it from sliding around in the plane if they happened to hit any turbulence. Zipping the tent shut behind him as he stepped out, Ramochis turned on one of the gas tanks; he could see the gas flowing out of the vents set into the walls.

The kid would be out for the entire trip to the Dead Sea Plant, so there wasn't any real need to stand there and watch over him like some kind of glorified babysitter. Happy with the prospect of getting to take some time off—at least until he and the others made it to the Dead Sea Plant—Ramochis headed into the front area of the plane, just behind the cabin.

There was a sort of rudimentary eating area there, nothing more than a table and a pair of chairs bolted to the wall and floor with a few supply cabinets to get food out of, but it was enough for Ramochis to have at least one or two meals. Maybe not the best of meals, but that wasn't what he was looking for. Opening the nearest cabinet, he found an ample supply of protein bars, beef jerky, and bottled water. Picking up six packs of jerky and three bottles of water, he settled himself at the table and ate. Once he was finished with his meal, Ramochis sat back in the chair and just sort of dozed.

It was a rare opportunity for a Standard Zoanoid like him to have the opportunity to just sit and not think about anything, to just let his mind wander on a boring detail where other people did almost all of the work, and he was just backup muscle if something went wrong. Ramochis remembered, with no small amount of humor, that he'd almost literally had to beat off three Razell, two Gregole, and a fellow Ramochis to get this assignment.

Folding his arms, Ramochis lay his head on them, satisfied with the fact that the red-haired mystery kid wasn't going to go anywhere.


	10. Live Shipments

As he had watched the child going about his work, Fried'rich had come to appreciate Ingriam's diligence: the young Zoalord had been working almost without pause, and on the few occasions that he'd stopped for a moment, it was only to refresh himself with a drink of water or a stretch. Fried'rich could understand the need to do such things, since he had done the same thing almost as many times.

"There; all finished," Ingriam said, leaning back in his chair with a particularly satisfied expression.

"Well done then, Ingriam."

Fried'rich looked over the proposed design for the Alvix model Zoanoid. It was a basic design, true, but as Ingriam was still only a child, Fried'rich did not expect too much of him—that he had even wanted to design a Zoanoid at the onset spoke well of his dedication to Chronos' glorious cause.

The sense of another Zoalord's presence washed over him at that moment, and Fried'rich saw Ingriam's head lift up suddenly. Realizing just who he was sensing, Fried'rich was about to greet his fellow Zoalord when he saw Ingriam's hands darting across the computer console, though he did not _want _Imakarum to see what he had accomplished.

Fried'rich found that in and of itself to be rather odd, since he had expected Ingriam would want his father to see the work that he had done immediately. The boy had always seemed to live for Imakarum's praise.

"Hi Dad!" Ingriam called happily.

_-What are you doing, little one?- _Fried'rich asked. _-You have your chance to show him now.-_

_-I… I just want to keep it a secret for a little while longer. You know; to make sure it works. Dad always says that new Zoanoids need a lot of testing before they get done.-_

Seeing the logic in his desire to present Imakarum with a fully realized Zoanoid model, rather than simply a design for one, Fried'rich relented.

"Hello, Kenji-chan. I hope you weren't bored while you were here."

"No, I wasn't. I kind of like it here, Dad—it's nice."

Imakarum chuckled softly, gently brushing the top of Ingriam's head with his fingertips. "I'm sure it is, Kenji-chan. Now, why don't we let Lord Fried'rich go, and then you and I can go have lunch?"

"I'd like that," Ingriam said, smiling like the child he was.

_-Lord Fried'rich, was I interrupting anything?-_

_-No, Imakarum. I was merely accompanying your son while he was performing some research.-_

_-What kind of things was he researching?- _Imakarum asked as he turned Ingriam around and began to lead the boy out of Cloud Tower's development division.

_-He was researching Zoanoid models,- _Fried'rich said, contenting himself with a half-truth. _–The boy seems very eager to learn; perhaps there might be some way that you could help him.-_

_-Thank you, Lord Fried'rich. I will keep that in mind.-_

XxXxXxX

As he led Kenji out of Cloud Tower's Zoanoid Development division, an arm around his son's broad shoulders, Imakarum considered what Lord Fried'rich had said. If Kenji had indeed expressed an interest in the Zoanoid models that the Japan Section was creating, perhaps he would be of use in designing new Zoanoid models. And maybe once Kenji had his own duties within Chronos, the other Zoalords wouldn't look down on him quite so much.

Still, there was time to discuss such arrangements at a later date. Right now, though, Imakarum simply wanted to have quiet meal with his son. As Kenji leaned against his left shoulder, Imakarum had a moment to be thankful for the fact that he was not currently wearing his uniform—the shoulder-guards in particular, since while they were very impressive in their way, they would have been particularly uncomfortable for Kenji in his current position.

As the pair of them made their way down into the cafeteria of Cloud Tower, Imakarum wrapped his arm around his son's waist and felt Kenji lean further into his embrace. These displays of dependence, along with the fact that Kenji was basically a mere Proto-Zoalord that had been altered mildly, were the main factors in Imakarum's decision to find a safe job for Kenji within Chronos itself.

However, with the potential threat of the Fourth Guyver, Imakarum knew that Kenji could not truly be safe even within the walls of Chronos, and after the incident with Aptom, Imakarum had wanted nothing more than that—at least for those times when he was unable to stay with his son. Kenji was still very weak when compared to the other members of the Council and had yet to learn how to control Zoanoids without fully immersing himself in their minds. That was a problem, since it left him completely helpless and disoriented when he pulled out. It was so much worse if they died, of course, but Imakarum shuddered, forcibly cutting off that line of thought before he could start to remember.

"Is something wrong, Dad?"

"No, Kenji-chan," Imakarum said, gently stroking Kenji's neck with the fingers of his right hand. "I'm fine. You haven't told me what you want for lunch yet, you know."

"I'm still thinking about that, Dad."

Patting Kenji's head, Imakarum continued to lead his son down to Cloud Tower's main eating area. A few of the Zoanoids they encountered on their way there stopped to greet Imakarum with the expected deference. Imakarum acknowledged them with a single nod of his head—the Zoanoids might have been his underlings, but that was no reason to overlook politeness.

XxXxXxX

The plane was just starting to land, and Cadastal, Myumelzee, and Noskov – along with a fairly large contingent of Standard Zoanoids, but none of the Hypers paid them much attention – were waiting out at the landing strip to welcome it. All three Hyper Zoanoids had been extremely surprised when the orders from above had come in—they'd first been told that all of the Guyvers had been dealt with, in one way or another. Therefore, the news that another one had been found hadn't gone over well.

The fact that this one was unconscious and being brought in for study by none other than Dr. Balkus himself did kind of reassure them, though.

"It's coming in now," Cadastal said calmly.

"Don't you mean 'ze plane! Ze plane!'?" Myumelzee asked, almost-innocently, but Cadastal didn't buy the act. "What the hell was that for?!" Myumelzee demanded a moment later, rubbing the back of his head where he'd been slapped.

"If I hear one more short joke out of either of you Bozo Brothers, you're going to get worse than a slap to the head!"

Noskov, Myumelzee's counterpart, turned and glared at Cadastal. "Well, _one_ of us hasn't managed to remove that flagpole from his ass yet, I see."

Not standing close to Noskov as he was to Myumelzee, Cadastal had to content himself with a ringing glare in the other Hyper Zoanoid's direction. Cadastal might have been a full two inches shorter than any Hyper Zoanoid since Zancrus, but he didn't think that that was any reason for the other Hypers to keep busting his ass about it, since he was at least reasonably sure that Zancrus – even though he was just as short as Cadastal, and pretty scrawny besides – had ever had to deal with this kind of shit.

Then again, that guy had been a member of Dr. Balkus' vaunted Team Five, so the other Hypers had to know they'd be dealing with his four teammates if they so much as looked cross-eyed at ol' Zancrus. But looking back at the descending plane, Cadastal saw that it was just about to land, and once it had, Cadastal, Noskov, and Myumelzee marched quickly up to the waiting aircraft.

As the ramp lowered and the single Standard Zoanoid that had been stationed aboard the plane – probably to keep an eye on the Guyver kid – walked out, Cadastal and his fellow Hyper Zoanoids went right out to meet him. From the way he was built, Cadastal was sure that the guy was a Ramochis.

"Nice to see you guys got out here so fast," the Ramochis said, grinning and nodding at the three Hypers.

"That the kid?" Noskov asked.

Cadastal, meanwhile, had to resist a strong urge to smack his fellow Hyper Zoanoid upside the head. How damn obvious was the answer to that question? Since when did Zoanoid or Hyper Zoanoid candidates come to them strapped to hospital gurneys?

"Yeah, this is the kid right here," Ramochis said, sounding more patient than Cadastal thought he had a right to be.

"We'll take care of it from here; leave him to us. You go off and get debriefed," Myumelzee said.

Cadastal, grunting his agreement, turned and followed his fellow Hyper Zoanoids into the Dead Sea plant.


	11. Man of a Thousand Faces

Dr. Balkus, checking once again to be certain that he possessed the required tools, restraints, and chemicals to facilitate the examination and eventual reconditioning of the Fifth Guyver, cast his telepathic powers out to monitor the progress of the three Hyper Zoanoids that had retrieved him. The Fifth Guyver would be in his hands momentarily.

XxXxX

Sean had gone to the gym, pleading boredom and citing the fact that Cori would still be in the meeting to take notes for him on the new, stronger breeds of Zoanoid that the ACTF had been facing lately. Sean knew that it was important for them to keep up on the developments at Chronos, and that the only way he and the other members of the "Monster Squad" could do that was to listen to the reports given by the Espionage Division, but that didn't stop the meetings from being boring.

And then there was the matter of that strange feeling that had came over him for a minute—the feeling that something had just happened, like someone far away had called to him or something. Now that he'd had a chance to clear his head, he thought he'd just been under a little too much stress, since there was no other reason for him to be hearing things the way he had been.

As he worked himself up to a decent sweat, Sean though back to that Zoanoid that he'd tangled with about two and a half months ago. The thing had bragged about being a hyper and had come closer than any Zoanoid – even Crane as a Guyver-Zoanoid – had to killing him. The Zoanoid had called itself Panadyne and had been armed with some kind of liquid that shot out from huge, twisted nozzles that stuck out of both of its shoulders—liquids that would explode instantly once they mixed—not to mention the two long, bony whips that grew out of Panadyne's back. Sean still remembered the sight of Sergeant Betty Lindson, one of the old hands of the Armored Division, with the front of her armor blown open and the spiked tip of Panadyne's bony whip sticking out of her throat.

Up till that day, Sean had never actually _seen_ someone get killed by a Zoanoid. He'd seen someone die after becoming a Zoanoid, but that had been a long time ago, and he didn't really remember much about that. Even the soldiers who fought for the ACTF hadn't had all that much trouble with the Zoanoids they'd fought up till then. Of course if Panadyne had been telling the truth, that was because they'd never had to face Hyper Zoanoids before.

Sean was hoping that Panadyne was just bragging, but the fact that the ACTF had started taking more losses lately seemed to argue that he wasn't doing any such thing. Sean shuddered, remembering the red and blue Zoanoids who'd attacked them only two weeks ago—the ones who'd used those sound attacks. Two more people had been killed then: Sergeant Tara Weston and Lieutenant Arnold Berenson of the Mobile Division.

Sean hadn't known them very well, but he'd still mourned their loss at the funeral.

Now, with the Tech Division working on a new, upgraded version of their powered armor known as the Beta, Sean was hoping that the new designs would be tough enough to stand up to Chronos' Hyper Zoanoids.

XxXxX

Ryan, still groggy from the shot back in the doctor's office, slowly rolled over and opened his eyes. The room looked like a basic doctor's office, but Ryan wasn't really lucid enough to tell what was what just then. When the door opened and someone walked in, Ryan struggled to sit up and see who it was, and the orderly, or whoever the frack it was coming into his room, obviously saw what he was trying to do.

"Not sleeping in anymore, I see. How are you feeling?" the man asked, as he hurried over to Ryan's bed and put his hand on the boy's forehead.

"Luggshi," Ryan mumbled, meaning 'like shit'.

"I'll take that as 'not very good'," the male attendant said, walking up to the bed where Ryan lay and shining a penlight into his eyes. "Well, your reactions to light are fine," he observed, then snapped his fingers next to Ryan's right ear a few times. Annoyed, Ryan swatted at him. "Well, I think I can safely say that your hearing hasn't been affected," the nursing attendant said, smiling calmly.

"I really hate you," Ryan muttered, still not quite coherent.

"That's what all ornery patients say," the nursing attendant said, laughing. "I guess I'd better go tell Balkus that you're starting to come around. I guess I'll also have to tell him that there haven't been any adverse affects. I'm sure he'll be happy to hear that."

"Bastard," Ryan muttered at the nurse's retreating back as he slumped back into the bed and proceeded to fall asleep.

XxXxX

Felinos' long ears twitched, just managing to catch the sound of soft footsteps coming up behind him. He was just starting to turn his head when something was jammed into his mouth.

"Don't worry; this won't take a minute," a harsh, mildly psychotic-sounding male voice whispered in his twitching ear.

Felinos could feel the hand—he knew it was a hand from the fingers sticking down his throat—starting to melt into the roof of his mouth. As the burning pain started to radiate down his throat, Felinos noticed that he was starting to lose control of his physical functions: his tail fell limp against the sidewalk, the bone blade clattering against the concrete.

"This genetic pattern, hmm… I think I've seen it somewh- What the hell?!"

The hand was ripped—actually _ripped_, owing to the fact that it had partially fused to the roof of his mouth—out, and Felinos fell to his hands and knees. Gagging and coughing and occasionally spitting out a lump of dislodged flesh and blood, Felinos turned one baleful yellow eye to look at the jerk who had tried to kill him.

"So, you're a Lost Unit like me, right? What are you doing all the way out here? I didn't think Chronos sent our type out on any _real_ missions."

"Don't know what you're talking about," Felinos gagged out, still not quite up to taking full breaths. "I'm not with Chronos."

"Well, I guess that explains why you're all the way out here," the man with the large facial scar said, flicking his black sunglasses so they flashed in the light. "Still, why did you come all the way out here? What's so special about _this_ place?"

Felinos didn't answer, instead turning his head back to look at the house where they – his once and future comrades, the ones who didn't even know he was protecting them yet – were all staying. He knew that Toshiaki, in human form, was also standing guard somewhere just out of his line of sight.

"You still didn't answer my question, long ears," the scarred man said, grabbing Felinos' left ear and jerking it down hard enough that Felinos' head went with it. "What are you doing here?"

"What's it to _you_?"

"There are some people in that house that I've got an interest in," the scarred man said, gently caressing Felinos' jaw with his fingertips. "Now, you're a fellow Lost Unit, and you said you're not with Chronos, so I figure I can trust you. But if you've come here to cause any trouble for the people in that house…" Here the scarred man's voice became a purr as he slipped his hand around Felinos' throat and squeezed slightly. "I'll make sure you regret it for a very long time."


	12. Old Friends Reunite

"There are people in that house that I'm interested in, too," Felinos said, not wanting to let someone he wasn't sure he could trust know how much of a connection he had to those people. "Don't think _you're_ the only one with plans."

"Well, you have balls, I'll give you that," the scarred man said, chuckling, "so I'll let you off easy just this once. Tell me what you're _really_ doing here, and I'll leave you alone."

"What do you mean?"

"You already said you didn't work for Chronos, so there's no way that anyone in that house could have pissed you off as much as they did me. Just tell me what you want here, and I'll get out of your way."

"I can't do that."

"Why the hell not?" the scarred man demanded. Then he grabbed Felinos around the throat again, squeezing harder this time. "Or have you been lying to me all this time? Did Chronos send you out here just to make me _think_ you were on my side so that _they_ could bring me in?" The grip on his throat grew painfully tight.

"I already told you I wasn't with Chronos," Felinos growled. "There's someone in that house I have some unfinished business with."

"You'll have to excuse me for not buying into that line of crap— how could a rogue Lost Unit like you _claim_ to be have any kind of ties with a Guyver?"

"If I tell you the truth, how do I know you won't kill me just out of spite?"

"Well, that depends," the scarred man said, smirking. "You think I'd have a reason to want to do that?"

Felinos, after a minute of fierce internal debate, decided to lay all of – well, almost all – his proverbial cards on the table. And hope that the proverbial shit didn't hit the fan. "I used to work for Chronos; I was a scientist, a processing tech. Doesn't really make much difference now, but I met up with the Guyvers during the Relics Point fiasco; my name's Howard Jackson."

"So you were one of Chronos' lab rats? I don't remember you."

"Is that a good thing or a bad thing?"

"Oh, it's a good thing," the scarred man said, lowering his sunglasses just enough to give Felinos a glimpse of his eerily bright, crimson eyes. "It's a _very_ good thing, given the fact that I wanted to kill every single one of the lab rats I've had the bad luck to run across."

"Well then, I guess I'm glad you don't remember me. Just out of curiosity, what's your name? I can't very well go around calling you 'hey, you' all the time."

"You can call me Aptom," the scarred man said as he slung his right arm around Felinos' shoulders. "See, that's another good thing about you right there—none of the lab rats who worked with us Lost Units ever cared that we even _had_ names."

As the two of them started walking, or rather, as Aptom started dragging and frog-marching him toward the house where all of his old friends were staying, Felinos looked over at his strange new companion.

"Wait—where are you taking me?"

"You said these guys in there were friends of yours," Aptom said, grinning more widely and not letting Felinos get a word in, "so we're going to pay them a visit. You don't have a problem with that, do you?"

"I get the feeling it wouldn't matter much if I do," Felinos grumbled. "Still, there are two problems with your 'suggestion': none of them would be able to recognize me in this form, and I didn't exactly bring any clothes with me."

"Never bothered me," Aptom said blithely.

"_Great_." Felinos rolled his eyes. "I just _had_ to get stuck with an exhibitionist. That's just my luck."

Aptom laughed. "Well, if you're body-shy, I guess you can borrow my jacket."

"Thanks," Felinos said, shifting back into his human form.

Howard took the leather jacket as Aptom handed it to him, hurriedly zipping it up and trying to pull it down so the people inside wouldn't be able to get a look at his privates. It worked—mostly, at least—but he still felt like he was wearing a kilt. As he and Aptom walked up to the door of the house, Howard wondered what Toshiaki would think when he caught sight of what he was doing. More than that, Howard wondered what the people in that house would think when they saw him.

They'd be surprised, of course, since the last place they'd seen him was at Relics Point. The same Relics Point that was now the largest damn crater in the Japan Section. _The 'Japan Section'?_ Howard almost rolled his eyes._ Look at me—I'm starting to think like those bastards. Though I guess it's just a hazard of working for them for as long as I did. I wonder if Toshiaki has these problems?_

Howard knew that he'd never ask that question, though. Even if he'd been more curious than he was now, he and Toshiaki had made a silent promise that they wouldn't ever talk about their time spent in the employ of Chronos; it just brought up too many bad memories. It was best not to disturb the old graves—not only the ones where they'd buried the remains of their friends and fellow scientists, but the graves of memory as well.

When they reached the door, Howard caught sight of Aptom's hand. His pointer finger was morphing into some kind of long, thin claw, which Aptom proceeded to use to pick the lock on the door they were standing in front of. Howard watched in morbid fascination as the lock clicked open and Aptom shoved the door out of his way.

"Hey, Natsuki! I'm glad you're…" Tetsuro, who'd just stepped into the main room, looked up and saw who had _really_ come into their alleged safehouse. His eyes locked on Aptom for a moment, and the scarred Lost Number actually waved at him. Then he noticed Howard, who was still trying to get Aptom's leather jacket to cover all the… important parts of his anatomy. "Mr. Jackson?"

Howard looked over at Tetsuro. "Nice to see you again."

"Nice to see _us_ again?" Tetsuro exclaimed, rushing over to Howard and looking him over. "It's nice to see _you_ again! I didn't think we'd _ever_ see you again! How did you manage to get out of Relics Point?" Tetsuro glanced down. "And… why aren't you wearing any pants?"

Howard chuckled. "Which question do you want me to answer first?"

"Wait a minute, I'll go get the others. Then we can talk."

Tetsuro hurried off into another room, leaving Howard and Aptom alone. Toshiaki came dashing up just then, taking in the scene quickly and turning to look at Howard. "Hey, are you all right? I didn't see you at your post, and I got-" He cut himself off, finally seeming to notice Aptom. "Who's this?"

"This is Aptom; I think he's on our side. I at least know he's a Lost Number, like us."


	13. The New Breed

"Well, since these people seem to know you pretty well, I guess I'll just-"

"Hey! I've seen you before!" a girl's voice, one that neither Howard nor Toshiaki recognized, called out. "You're that man who's always been hanging around outside the house. Did you finally decide to come in and meet us?" she smiled, somehow looking cute and smug at the same time.

"Mr. Hayami?"

"Hi, Tetsuro, Mizuki."

The short-haired girl—and Howard was just starting to wonder if he should ask her what her name was—started over to them. At first it looked like she was going to start chatting with them, but instead she walked right past them, closed the door, and locked it up tight. Which, when Howard thought about it, seemed like a really good idea. She also locked up a second latch that Howard hadn't noticed before.

"I can't believe I forgot this; I _never_ forget things like this!"

"I guess there's a first time for everything, Natsuki," Tetsuro said, smiling kindly.

"I think it was a good thing that you forgot to lock that other lock," Mizuki said, smiling at Howard and Toshiaki. "We would have never found out about what happened to our friends if you had."

"I think you're onto something there, Mizuki," Natsuki said, laughing happily.

"Mr. Jackson? Mr. Hayami? What happened in Relics Point after we left? And how did all of you manage to get out?" Mizuki asked.

"What I really want to know is, where are the other scientists? They did come out of Relics Point with you, didn't they? Where are you all staying?" Tetsuro asked.

"We've been staying at Prof. Odagiri's mansion," Toshiaki said. "And yeah, most of the scientists who you met escaped. But…" Toshiaki trailed off, biting his lower lip.

Howard looked away, too, not wanting to be the one to tell their friends about what had happened to the rest of the people that they had known from Relics Point. In the end, he decided to change the subject.

"Hey, I almost forgot to ask; what happened to Sho? And Prof. Odagiri? And where's Agito? I thought they'd be with you guys."

Mizuki sniffled; Tetsuro turned away; and Shizu smiled with such determined brightness that Howard and Toshiaki both knew she was in deep denial. Hell, even Aptom could tell, and the shapeshifter wasn't exactly what one would call emotionally sensitive.

"I'm quite sure that Sho and Master Agito are both fine," Shizu said, turning toward the three guests and still smiling determinedly, hence not seeing the looks of sympathy and pity directed at her. "What I'm more interested in is what happened to all our friends from Relics Point. Why don't I go make some tea, and then you can tell us all about it?"

With that said, Shizu turned and hurried away, presumably into the apartment's kitchen. Coming close to the rest of the people that he'd inadvertently come to visit, because he didn't want Shizu to hear them talking about her while she wasn't there, Howard looked at the others.

"What's wrong with her?"

"We were all inside the Relic when it was destroyed," Tetsuro said. "Sho was piloting—at least he _was_, until he and Agito both left to deal with Gyou. He'd gotten out in front of the Relic and was fighting Mr. Murakami-"

"He wasn't fighting Mr. Murakami, he was killing him!" Mizuki shrilly cut in, tears in her eyes.

Tetsuro nodded sadly. "You're right, Mizuki. Anyway, after Gyou had… after he'd killed Mr. Murakami, Sho and Agito went outside in front of the Relic to fight him. That was when the other Zoalords appeared. Most of them were stronger than Gyou—much stronger. Though Gyou was almost half dead by then, both from what Mr. Murakami had done to him as well as probably from fighting that other Zoalord…" Tetsuro paused for breath, and both Howard and Toshiaki wondered just what was coming next. "That new Zoalord, this glowing, golden one, somehow reflected both Mega-Smasher blasts back at us; the Relic was destroyed by those."

"We haven't seen Master Agito or Sho since that day, but I'm sure they're fine," Shizu said as she came back into the main room. "Master Agito is probably planning something even as we speak. Sir?" she called over her shoulder to Aptom. "Would you like to stay and have some tea?"

Howard turned, noticing that Aptom had been heading for the door. The other Lost Unit stopped, turning around to look at all the people gathered in the main room of the apartment he'd just entered.

"Sure," Aptom said, smiling. "I'd love to have some tea."

He was smiling _without_ his usual Hannibal Lector-ish I'm-going-to-_eat_-your-_face_ expression, which almost surprised Howard until he remembered that there were other people in the room, too. Aptom probably didn't want to freak them out the way he'd tried to do with him. That thought worried Howard a bit, since Aptom was or had been acting, but Howard still wasn't sure which had been the act and which was the real Aptom.

Turning to look back at Howard, Aptom smirked at him. Settling down next to Aptom at the table that Shizu had just finished setting up, Howard leaned over so that he could whisper in Aptom's ear.

"What's your game, Aptom? What are you doing?"

"I haven't the faintest idea what you're talking about," Aptom said with an obviously faked sincere look. "Drink your tea."

"I want to know what you're doing here," Howard insisted. "You said you had issues with Sho, and now we've learned that Sho and Agito are probably dead. So what are you still doing here?"

"You really think you want to know?" Aptom asked, raising his teacup to take a sip.

"I wouldn't be asking if I didn't," Howard shot back.

"You haven't known that little bastard nearly as long as I have; I know how damn hard he is to kill. If he's not here, then he's probably biding his time before he does something stupid like piss me off again. Besides, it's been too long since I've had a good cup of tea." Aptom lifted his cup and took another sip.

Howard couldn't really think of anything to say to that, so he fell silent and drank his own tea. One thing was for certain, though: he was going to have to have a talk with Hayami about what Aptom had said, just as soon as he could get away from the Lost Unit in question. Aptom didn't really seem like the type who'd appreciate being talked about.

XxXxX

Sean, full from a late dinner and dozing in his bed, was wondering whether Cori would come in to kiss him goodnight before or after he fell asleep. He was hoping that she'd come when he was at least awake enough to appreciate the kiss, but as he slipped further and further from lucidity, Sean thought that that would be highly unlikely. Still, it would have been nice…

XxXxX

Just as Sean was about to fall asleep entirely, the door to his room swung open and Cori walked in. Bending over the half-asleep form of the man that she loved, she gently kissed first his right cheek and then his forehead. Sean was such a good man, even more so since he hadn't tried to keep her from participating in this battle against Chronos once he'd seen how much it meant to her. Cori had felt that she needed to do this, and she still did, to give her father's sacrifice at least some meaning.

He'd given his life to make sure that she was able to live, that was true, but if it hadn't been for Chronos, he'd never have been forced to make that choice in the first place. They were evil—they'd ruined the lives of countless people. Whatever Chronos was trying to do, they weren't going to succeed; she, Sean, and the ACTF were going to stop them before they could hurt anyone else.

The blaring of the attack alarms, as loud and sudden as they were, caused Sean to bolt upright in bed. Cori quickly got out of the way of the door, knowing that Sean would either rush right through it or one of the ACTF soldiers would come in to get him, neither of which would have been possible with her standing in the threshold the way she was. She watched as Sean dashed out of the room, then turned and headed for the Tech Division.

They were going to need her help analyzing those new Zoanoids that Chronos had been sending after them lately.

XxXxX

Sean, as he slowly woke from his semi-conscious daze, found himself running with a large group of ACTF soldiers. Or, more precisely, being dragged along as the soldiers made their way to the base armory. Sean knew the way there almost by heart after working with the ACTF for so long.

"Barker? You up yet?" one of the soldiers asked.

"Yeah; yeah, I'm alright."

"You think you'll be good for this one?" Hallie Carson, one of the many soldiers in the Hunter Division, asked as she ran along beside him.

Sean noticed then that Hallie and the other soldier, whose name he hadn't learned yet, were marching him in along with the other soldiers.

"I think you should transform already if you've got your bearings back," Larry Henderson said, signaling for the other ACTF soldiers to leave the area so Sean wouldn't injure any of them.

Once all of them were out of the blast and Sean had gotten far enough away from the equipment that he wouldn't damage any of it, he called for his Guyver unit. Once he was fully encased inside the alien bio-armor, he turned and ran out of the armory, following on the heels of the soldiers that had been walking with him. Once all of them had made it out of the compound, Sean looked around for their attackers.

Said attackers consisted of a large group of some kind of hulking, white-furred Zoanoids that looked like they had some insect parts mixed in just for kicks—whoever had designed these new Zoanoids for Chronos certainly had weird tastes. Sean was grateful to be wearing the Guyver— it had restored enough of his energy that he no longer felt that he was going to fall asleep on his feet, and he was facing Zoanoids of a currently unknown quantity.

They might have been just like all the other Zoanoids that Sean had ever faced during the time he'd been battling Chronos L.A., or they might have been the newer and nastier breeds he'd been facing since the ACTF had gotten fully up and running. The four long, crablike pinchers that Sean could see sticking out of their backs seemed to suggest that these guys were the tougher ones.


	14. Running Strong, Running Away

He hoped he was wrong, but something about the way they moved—the way his Guyver was reacting to them—made him fairly sure that he was right.

One of the Zoanoids lifted its head, letting off a shriek that Sean thought would have been more appropriate coming from a bird of prey. Then all of them charged, galloping on all-fours, their pinchers snapping at the air and some kind of weird green drool dribbling from their insect-like mouths. The soldiers of the Hunter Division fired into the mass of charging Zoanoids, but they leapt out of the path of the barrage with more agility and speed than their huge bulk would have even hinted at.

Even Sean had a bit of trouble keeping up with the movements of the Zoanoids, and his senses had been enhanced by the Guyver. He didn't even want to think about what the normal soldiers were going through, fighting those things. Without another thought, Sean charged into the fray. Those furry, bug Zoanoids were fast, but they couldn't be any real match for a Guyver. They just couldn't be.

XxXxX

Ryan was just about to get out of bed and see if there were any bathrooms in the immediate vicinity, someone else came into the hospital room—someone severely built; someone who definitely looked like trouble. Ryan tensed slightly, careful to make sure that Mr. Badass didn't notice him doing so, since it really wouldn't have endeared him to the guy if he'd seen Ryan tensing up just at the sight of him.

Or maybe it would have, and in that case Ryan didn't want to give the jerk the satisfaction of knowing just how much his presence affected him.

"The nurse _said_ you were up," Mr. Badass said, sounding gruff and at the same time completely disinterested in what he was doing at the moment.

Ryan figured he could work with that. When Mr. Badass walked up behind the bed he was still on and started pushing, Ryan leaned back and tried to make it look like he was relaxed. All the while, though, he was wondering just what the hell was going on.

"Hey, big guy, just where are we going?" Ryan asked, even as he crossed his arms behind his head and made a concerted effort to appear relaxed.

"Can't tell you," Mr. Badass said shortly.

_Strike one,_ Ryan thought grimly, clenching his teeth briefly. "What's going to happen to me?"

"Can't say."

_Strike two._ "Where am I, anyway?"

"That's really none of your business, kid."

_Strike three; I am so outta here._ "Well, if that's what you think…"

Lunging sideways suddenly, Ryan threw himself over the side of the bed. Then, before Mr. Badass could get out more than a few surprised syllables, Ryan ducked under the bed and leapt out from the other side. Getting to his feet, he ran—he may not have known where exactly he was, but one thing he was sure of was that whoever Mr. Badass was, he didn't want to have anything to do with him. And so he was going to haul ass out of here, wherever _here_ turned out to be. Turning his head at the sound of heavy footfalls behind him, Ryan saw that Mr. Badass was following him.

He'd pretty much expected something like that to happen, since the guy hadn't seemed like the type to take his escape well. Not that Ryan gave a flying fuck about what Mr. Badass thought of him, but still—the guy looked pretty buff. Maybe he should start looking for somewhere to lose the guy, but the wall looming just ten feet in front of him startled him almost enough to stop him in his tracks.

Since that would have been an extremely _bad_ idea, what with Mr. Badass hot on his heels and all, Ryan turned the corner into the hallway he'd seen out of the corner of his eye. Mr. Badass tried to come after him, pretty much like Ryan had expected. Seeing him almost crash headfirst into the wall was pretty funny, though, and it gave Ryan at least _some_ hope about his current situation. _Can't corner worth a damn; I can work with this._

Mr. Badass evidently heard Ryan laughing at him, because he shot Ryan the filthiest glare he could, and Ryan grinned back, flipping him off just as he lost sight of him around the corner. The hallway in front of him was empty, but Ryan had the distinct feeling then that that situation wasn't going to last very long—not with him loose and Mr. Badass so obviously chasing after him.

Whatever screwed-up hospital this place was—and it had to be _seriously_ screwed-up, given the fact that he'd managed to catch a glimpse of actual _restraints___on that bed just before he'd run like hell—Ryan was willing to put at least some money on there being orderlies here. Or, more likely, some kind of strong-guy guards, like those hairy, sweaty, no-necked, severely mentally deficient guys that he'd always made it a point to _strenuously_ _avoid_ in school.

_This is going to be just a joy,_ Ryan thought sarcastically, rolling his eyes. Looking for someplace to hide that Mr. Badass or his cohorts wouldn't think to look for him, Ryan heard the man running after him. _Well, this day officially sucks._

XxXxX

Sean had long since learned that, whatever breed of Zoanoids these new ones were, they were more dangerous than any other that he'd ever faced before. Their claws were extremely sharp, and what was worse, they exuded some kind of acid that was powerful enough to dissolve even the Guyver's tough armor. He'd been a lot more careful to stay out of spitting-range when he was facing those things.

He still found it strange that these things would actually _spit_ the acid at him, rather than having it come out of some other kind of nozzle like Panadyne's had been set on his shoulders. But as one of the buglike, white Zoanoids leaped at him, Sean found that the spitting wasn't quite so funny anymore. Now it was dangerous again.

He also knew that he had to find a way to get past their heads and the long, sharp pinchers that stuck out of their backs. Their heads, despite the fact that their necks looked about a foot long, weren't very flexible. Then again, that was probably why they had the pincers in the first place: to keep any of their faster targets from being able to get a shot at their heads. Racing at the nearest white-furred, insectile Zoanoid—one that was harassing a group of ACTF Hunters—Sean zigzagged to avoid the acid that it had started spitting at him.

Once he had gotten within stabbing-range of the Zoanoid's pincers, he was even more careful to avoid getting caught by them. It wasn't that he was afraid of the pincers themselves, since the Guyver's armor was probably tough enough to stand up to them, as Sean didn't know of any Zoanoid that could pierce the Guyver's armor just by scratching it, but he knew they _would_ be able to hold him in place long enough for the Zoanoid to spit enough acid at him to incapacitate him.

Moving out of the way of the long, stabbing pincers, he managed to leap up onto the Zoanoid's back. Grabbing onto the base of the long, spider-like legs that the pincers were attached to, he extended the sword on the Guyver's left arm and slammed it deep into the yielding flesh of the Zoanoid's back, just below the thing's left shoulder. Sean was exultant, at least until the pain hit him, and then he wasn't quite sure who screamed louder— him or the Zoanoid.

Ripping his blade out of the Zoanoid's back, Sean saw the damage that the Zoanoid's blood – _blood_ of all things – had done to his armor. The blade on his arm was eaten through almost entirely, and even the armor itself showed signs of corrosion. But what mattered far more than the damage to his armor, although that in itself was very worrying was the pain that he was in. _What the hell is this thing—some kind of Xenomorph?!_

Either someone had been watching too many _Alien_ movies, or- Sean was in too much pain from the Zoanoid's corrosive blood to finish that thought. What was even worse was that the Zoanoid had thrashed hard enough to throw him off, and it was now turning toward him with murder in its four red eyes. Sean dodged, just as a particularly large spray of acid was discharged from the Zoanoid's mandibled mouth.

Ducking out of the way as the white Zoanoid spat at him twice more, he leaped backwards and out of the way of a stab from all four of the pinchers. Panting, he looked back over his right shoulder as his sensors alerted him to the other Zoanoid closing in on him. It was another of the white ones, of course, obviously trying to help the first one double-team him. While he hated Chronos for making these Zoanoids, Sean had to wonder just how they had come up with them in the first place.

He had never seen anything even remotely like them in all the time he'd been fighting Chronos and the Zoanoids they'd created. Sure, he had faced off against his share of insect-like Zoanoids, but none of them had possessed extra limbs, and more importantly _none_ of them had been able to spit _acid_. Sure, there had been that one that had looked like a rabid bunny and had spit some kind of sticky, saplike stuff at him, but that thing hadn't been what anyone would call dangerous.

None of the Zoanoids that Sean had ever faced had been this dangerous. These things weren't even standing still long enough for him to use the massive cannon in the Guyver's chest to destroy them the way that he'd done with Crane when he'd become a Guyver-Zoanoid. On top of that, though, they were too fast for Sean to be confident of scoring more than a glancing hit on them with that weapon, and stabbing them to death was obviously out, since he certainly wasn't going to forget the pain of having parts of his arm dissolving in that Zoanoid's acid blood anytime soon.

The sense of something fast coming at him from behind caught by the Guyver's head sensors, and Sean leaped out of the way. Thinking it was another one of those white Zoanoids, Sean charged up the laser in the Guyver's forehead and turned to confront his new opponent, but it turned out that he needn't have worried so much, as it turned out to be the ACTF's Hunter Division firing on the attacking Zoanoids. Their first shot hit the armored shoulders of one of the white Zoanoids, not really causing much damage but still managing to disorient the Zoanoid slightly.

The next shot hit above the armored shoulder, but below the armor-plating on the creature's neck. It must have ignited the Zoanoid's acidic blood, because the next thing Sean knew the Zoanoid had burst into roaring flames. The other eight Zoanoids, seeing the fate that would soon be theirs, scattered and kept low to the ground. Sean didn't think that that was likely to help them, since the ACTF was now aware of just how to kill those bug-headed bastards.

Looking around for any other Zoanoids—preferably ones that _didn't _come equipped with deadly Guyver-melting acid blood—Sean failed to spot any. This group seemed to be made up of only the acid equipped Zoanoids, which didn't sit well with Sean at all.

XxXxX

Since he'd been headed to that area anyway, and since Kenji had seemed to be getting bored cooped up in Cloud Tower, Imakarum had decided to take his son to the South American Section to visit with Lord Waferdanos. Kenji seemed to be very eager to learn about the workings of Chronos' Zoanoid Development Division, and so Imakarum thought that it would be good for him to see another Division with other Zoanoids being developed there.

Even though the Zoanoid Development Divisions within the various branches of Chronos were all laid out on the same basic floor plan, the Zoanoids developed there were distinctly disparate from one another, especially the ones that had been developed to thrive in tropical environments, as Lord Waferdanos' were. They would be quite different than those that were developed in more temperate climates like Japan. It would be very instructive for Kenji to see these Zoanoids, especially if what Lord Fried'rich said had about his interest turned out to be true.

For now, though, Kenji seemed enthralled enough just looking at the thick jungle passing beneath him that Imakarum didn't want to disturb him.


	15. Quality Time

"Wow! I've never seen so many trees before Dad," Kenji exclaimed, pressing his hands against the left-side window of their helicopter. "And all of them are so big!"

"Yes, they are," Imakarum said, watching indulgently as Kenji looked back and forth, seeming to be trying to take in the entire vista at once. "We're currently flying over the Amazon rainforest, one of the largest in the world. We'll also be arriving at Chronos Brazil soon, so I want you to be on your best behavior."

"I will, Dad. Don't worry," Kenji said, turning to look over his shoulder as he spoke.

"That's my boy," Imakarum said proudly, leaning forward to stroke Kenji's tied-back hair.

"Um, Dad?"

"Yes, Kenji-chan?"

"Who's Waferdanos? I don't think I've ever met him before."

"It's true you haven't really met him," Imakarum said. "However, you might remember that he _was_ there on the day that I presented you to the Council. He was the one sitting next to Lord Hamilcal. You remember Lord Hamilcal, don't you?"

"Uhm…" Kenji paused to think for a moment. "Oh! I remember him; I still think he looks like Santa Claus."

"You're never going to let that go, are you Kenji-chan?" Imakarum chuckled, leaning back against his well-padded seat.

"Nope," Kenji chirped, smiling over his shoulder.

Imakarum chuckled deep in his throat, leaning closer to Kenji so that he could play with his son's hair. Kenji had decided to start wearing his hair in a ponytail a week-and-a-half ago, claiming that his long hair made the back of his neck itch. At first, Imakarum had been leery of the idea, which was presumably why Kenji hadn't expressed the desire to do that kind of thing much earlier and had just resorted to scratching the back of his neck at odd times.

Miaka had always worn her hair that way, and with Kenji's already uncanny resemblance to her, Imakarum wasn't particularly eager to have his son doing something that would make him look even more like his long-dead mother. But all of that had been before he'd seen how cute Kenji looked with his hair tied back. The look really did suit him, even as much as it sometimes threatened to distract Imakarum from his assigned duties.

But right at the moment there was no one to see them, no one to see that he was not acting as an Overlord of Chronos was expected to, and so Imakarum continued to play with Kenji's hair. Kenji's obvious pleasure in such a simple act made Imakarum very reluctant to stop, but when the pilot announced that they had arrived at Chronos Brazil and would hence be landing soon, Imakarum knew that he would have to do so soon. Once the transport had landed, Imakarum gently helped Kenji to stand and took his hand.

He knew that the physical contact would help Kenji to not feel so bereft after losing his father's ministrations on his hair, and so Imakarum gently tugged on Kenji's hand to get him to follow along.

"Dad?"

"Yes, Kenji?" Imakarum turned to look at his son over his left shoulder.

"What's Chronos Brazil like, anyway?"

"I don't know," Imakarum admitted, making his way out of the main heliport and down from the roof of Chronos' Brazilian installation. "I've never been to this Section before."

"Why not?"

"I just never saw any particular reason to come here; I wasn't particularly curious, and there were no major problems reported in the area."

"What made you want to come here now, Dad?"

"I finally decided that I was, in fact, curious about this Section of Chronos," Imakarum stated, knowing even as he spoke that his words were only half true. "I've never been to a rainforest either—at least not one of such an immense size."

Masaki Murakami had been to a rainforest, but Masaki Murakami was dead, and Imakarum was not about to rely on the memories of a dead man to tell him anything about the place that he was now going to. Kenji seemed to realize that the conversation was ended, since he said nothing more on the matter of what they were doing or where they were going. That was good, since it let Imakarum consider just what he was going to say to Lord Waferdanos when they met.

He knew that the Third Zoalord, who held dominion over this Section of Chronos, was very loyal to Lord Alkanphel's cause. So there was no reason to discuss things of that nature with him. Perhaps he could take in the scenery at the spa when he wasn't looking after Kenji. It really was a pleasant place, this Paradise Valley Health Spa that Lord Waferdanos had created as the focal point of the South America Section.

It was certainly an interesting way to get the humans to respond positively to Chronos, at least in this area of the world.

"Dad?"

"Yes, Kenji?" Imakarum said as he turned to look over his right shoulder.

"Can we have something to eat before we go look around at Chronos Brazil? I'm hungry."

"I think we could manage to do that," Imakarum said, chuckling. "We don't have any real schedule to keep, after all."

Turning slightly as Kenji touched his left arm, Imakarum smiled as his son slipped his hand into his. Imakarum gently squeezed his fingers before he started down the stairway that would lead them into Chronos Brazil. He had to let go for a few minutes while they descended the staircase, since it wasn't wide enough for the two of them to walk abreast, but when they reached the main floor Imakarum took Kenji's hand again and stroked the back of it.

Kenji turned his sun-bright smile on Imakarum, and they continued on their way into the main area of Chronos Brazil. They would have to avoid the humans in this place, since he wasn't dressed for dealing with them and Kenji was still so obviously a child – in mind if not in body – but that would be very easy for someone like him.

He'd managed to find a janitor's supply closet and a uniform that fit him without looking too baggy, and now Ryan was trying to find a way to get out of… of wherever it was that he was being held. He'd long since made up his mind that this place couldn't possibly be any kind of hospital, no matter how they tried to dress the place up—there were too many big, armed guards, for one thing, and for another the place was entirely too empty.

Not empty of people, of course, what with the massive amount of guards and… other types of people they had running around in the place.


	16. Strange Accommodations

Still, Ryan wasn't quite sure what to make of the place he'd somehow gotten stuck in, other than the fact that it was huge and stuffed with the kinds of people that he usually went out of his way to avoid. The business-suited types weren't as much of a concern to him as the guys in the stupid-looking helmets; they were all uniformly buff, and they had the look of some of the dumber bruisers that he'd been subjected to back at school. Some of the guys in the business suits were pretty damn huge, though, and Ryan definitely didn't want to get on the wrong side of one of them. Still, he wanted _out_ of this weird place, and if that meant that he'd have to find a way to get past a bunch of Neanderthals, then so be it.

Stepping out into the hallway with the air of someone who knew what the hell he was doing and pushing a cart laden with supplies, Ryan set his mind to searching for a good place to make a break from. There weren't so many people in this area, just a few of those lab-coated scientist-types that he'd been seeing more and more of since even before he'd ducked into the closet to escape the crazies that'd been tailing him. Those types Ryan felt he actually had a chance of taking on, if not for the fact that they could probably call up an entire goon squad to come done on him.

_So no beating up the scientists for information, Crouger. We're going to have to find another way to go about this._ What that other way was, though, Ryan wasn't quite sure yet. He'd find it, though; he'd find it, and then he'd be able to leave this place and everything in it behind.

There _was_ still the niggling question of just why these guys wanted him, out of all the people in the hospital Mom had taken him to. _Oh, shit! Mom! I didn't even know how these guys managed to pick _me _out of a crowd; but if they went after me, then that means that she could be stuck in this hellhole too. Okay; calming down. Thinking back._ Ryan took a series of deep breaths to try and do just that.

_First up, Mom never went into the hospital with me. She apologized, but she said she had work to get done. That's good; probably means she didn't end up getting dragged out here. Wherever the hell 'here' turns out to be._ Feeling a slight twinge in his back, up by his shoulders, Ryan paused for a moment to think. That, whatever it was, hadn't felt like an itch of any kind.

In fact, if Ryan had been asked to put a name on what he was feeling at the moment…_ Oh, hell, don't tell me—I'm developing some kind of Spider-sense. Didn't know I could spontaneously jump into comic books. Or maybe I just passed a signpost while I was out and nobody bothered to tell me. _Smirking, Ryan turned and started heading in the direction that the call seemed to be coming from.

Maybe there was something there that could help him. In any case, if he didn't find out just what was giving him those weird vibes, he'd go crazy wondering about it.

The feeling seemed to be coming from somewhere ahead of him and off to his right, though Ryan wasn't entirely sure how far away the source of his amorphous _feeling_ was. The sense he was getting from… wherever the hell he was getting it wasn't being too forthcoming about any kind of location. So that meant that he was going to have to hunt it down all by his lonesome.

Hunt down the source of a vaguely directional "sense" with the large amount of goons that whoever was in charge of this mondo-bizarro place had no doubt sicced on him once they'd gotten word that he'd escaped from whatever it was that they'd had planned for him. It should make things interesting, at least. _Yeah, really interesting; trying to keep my ass from being made by guys more than twice my size who look like they eat nails for breakfast. And I don't mean the finger kind. Well, here's to not getting caught._

Pulling his denim cap down tighter over his mass of bright, extremely obvious red hair, Ryan set off again. The hallway he was in seemed to be empty for the moment, but that could change really fast, as Ryan was completely aware, so he kept his eyes forward and his head down as he pushed the service cart he'd appropriated from the janitor's closet when he'd snagged the uniform. He also found himself wishing for a pair of sunglasses—not only were the fluorescent lights starting to give him a headache, but this place was strange enough that he wanted to get as close a look as he could at it. If his eyes had been hidden by a pair of dark, polarized shades, he could have looked around to his heart's content and no one would have been the wiser as long as he didn't turn his head too often. As things stood now, though, he couldn't.

He was supposed to be acting the part of someone who worked here—someone who knew what was what—and gawking like an idiot at everything he saw would have really spoiled the illusion, so Ryan reined himself in. It wasn't really all that hard: he just kept reminding himself that no matter how freakily interesting this place was, he wanted to get the hell out before someone caught him. That was enough to curb any curiosity on his part.

Once they had made it to the spare room—only one room for the three of them—there was the matter of deciding who was going to take the bed. Howard had been surprised that Aptom had even decided to stay with them in the first place, but their fellow Lost Unit had the air of someone who was doing something just to be annoying.

"Okay, so the giant cat can curl up on the floor," Aptom said, grinning and pointing at him. "'Freezer here can find some place to cool _his_ heels, and I'll take that nice, cozy bed there."

"Who died and made you Overlord?" Howard demanded. "And why are you even taking the bed, anyway? You said you didn't sleep."

"Well, given the fact that I _ate_ the last guy, I figured you wouldn't want to get into a fight with me," Aptom stepped closer, grinning like the sadistic maniac he was. "Of course, if you really _want_ to make an issue of where I lay down tonight, you're welcome to it."

"All right, stop it, you two," Toshiaki said, firmly putting himself between Aptom and Howard before any fists – or assorted other body parts – could start flying. "That bed's a King, so that means that all of us should be able to fit on it comfortably."

"You honestly expect me to share a bed with two _guys_?" Aptom ridiculed. "You've got to be kidding me."

"Why don't you just think of us as fellow Lost Units," Howard mocked, smirking in the same manner that Aptom had when they'd first met.

"Fine," Aptom said, still grinning in that creepy way he'd been doing on and off throughout the day. "But if you guys snore, I'm eating your heads."

"What?!" Toshiaki exclaimed, obviously shocked.

"If either of you two snores, then _I_," Aptom pointed to himself, "will _eat—_" He made a lunging, chomping motion. "your _heads_."

"You don't have to patronize us," Howard growled. "We're not _stupid_."

"Oh? You sure about that?"

Before Howard could come up with a suitably crushing retort, Toshiaki stepped in and shoved them apart again. "Will you two just knock it off already? Go take a shower, Howard; it'll make you feel better. And Aptom, go do… something else. All right?"

"Fine," Howard said, shrugging and leaving the room.

He really was grateful to Toshiaki for dealing with Aptom, since all he could seem to do was get angry at the guy. Then again, Aptom did seem to be going out of his way to provoke them. Maybe this was how he got those other Zoanoids to attack him, which would make sense, since most Zoanoids weren't stupid enough to attack someone who was so obviously stronger and meaner than they.

And likewise, the Zoalords weren't likely to send their troops after something that literally _ate_ Zoanoids. Then again, maybe he was reading too much into the situation. Maybe Aptom was just a jerk, and that was all there was to it.

As he opened the door to the bathing area and closed it behind him, Howard took a deep breath and blew it out slowly. Now wasn't the time to think about Aptom anymore. Now it was time for him to have a nice, warm shower and forget about his troubles for the rest of the day. As he stripped, tossing his clothes into a convenient hamper, Howard put all the thoughts of Chronos, of Aptom, of the Guyvers, and of what their strategy was going to have to be out of his mind.

He was just going to enjoy himself now, let the hot water wash over him as he cleaned himself and forget for as long as he could what he was. Forget the fact that he was a refugee rebel; forget that if anyone outside the apartment saw him, he would be hunted down and dragged back to Chronos for interrogation and "orderly disposal". As he turned the water on and adjusted it to his preferred temperature, he shuddered.

_That_ particular euphemism was far too kind to describe what Chronos did when they were finished interrogating someone. Being tossed – still alive and screaming – into the incinerator chute that all of the Chronos bases Howard had ever worked at came equipped with, was only orderly in the sense that it didn't leave any remains behind. But he wasn't supposed to be thinking about things like that right now, Howard reminded himself.

He was just going to take a shower, and then he was going to go to bed. In the same bed with Aptom, the same guy who had tried to eat him when they first met. Sighing under the stream of hot water he was standing in, Howard reminded himself that things were going to be all right. Probably. Aptom knew that he didn't work for Chronos anymore, so there would be no reason for him to try to eat him again. Probably.

_That's one too many probabilities for my taste, but I guess I'll just have to soldier on through. The same way I always did… back then._ As Howard lathered up his hair for the first time, he got the slightly uncomfortable feeling that he was being watched. But that was stupid—no one would be watching him while he was in the shower. None of the people in this house were the type to peep in on someone when they were in the shower.

When Howard looked down, feeling something sliding over his abdominal muscles, he saw the right hand and arm of a well-built person wrapped around him. _What the… who the hell would be walking in on my shower, and who'd be… licking the back of my neck?!_ Grabbing the offender around the waist and throwing him out of the shower, Howard turned to yell at the pervert who'd been trying to molest him.

Said pervert turned out to be Aptom, which really had to be the worst kind of joke that fate had played on him in awhile.

"Get out, you sick, psychotic pervert! What the hell did you think you were doing?!"

Laughing hysterically as he left the room, Aptom didn't say a word. Fuming, Howard went back to lathering his hair. He'd get Aptom for that later.


	17. Recriminations

Sitting in his plush chair in his newly furnished office, Dr. Ethan Nathaniel brooded. While it _was_ true that he had managed to secure a higher position for himself in Chronos, the cost had been one that was going to haunt him for a good, long time. The price had been the life of Ryan Crouger, the son of two very good friends of his. He and Ryan had even started to develop a friendship of their own, but of course all of that was over now.

Dr. Balkus would probably dissect him, or brainwash him—something to keep the second-to-last Guyver from ever being able to do anything that would interfere with Chronos' plans. And Ethan himself had been a party to that betrayal: he was responsible for everything that happened to that poor boy. And he would have to live with himself for every day of the rest of his life, knowing that he had sold out a boy that he had started to become friends with.

Ryan's parents didn't know of his own personal role in the disappearance of their son, since one of the other divisions had given the report. He'd just had to sign it, and he'd done that without even taking the time to read through it, not wanting to think any more about what he'd done. Whatever excuses Chronos had prepared for Ryan's immediate family were bound to be airtight. It had to be, to keep them from coming to the hospital to demand to know where their son was.

Dr. Nathaniel knew that whatever excuse Chronos had given them would give Norman and Norma no reason to try and find out what was going on with their son, but he just had no desire to know what that particular excuse had been. Ever. He may have been on Chronos' payroll; he may have been effectively enslaved by their anti-rebellion virus; but he had at least _some_ freedom left, even if that freedom mostly consisted of being able to ignore the tings he didn't like. He may not have been overly fond of the hand he'd been dealt, but nothing as evil as Chronos could survive for very long.

Ethan knew that if he kept on living, he'd eventually find a way to rebel against the ones who had created Chronos in the first place. Where there was life there was hope, after all.

As he made his way slowly closer to where the tingling in his shoulders seemed to be coming from – at least judging by the way it kept getting stronger the closer he came – Ryan got the distinct feeling that he was being watched, and more than that, that he was being followed. Walking on, playing like he hadn't noticed a thing, Ryan tried to gauge just what kind of person was following him.

From the sound of the footsteps, his follower was pretty big, which probably meant that whoever was following him was a guy. Either that, or a very big woman, but Ryan didn't think that was very likely, since the few women he'd seen here were wither normal sized or looked like buff gymnast-types. So definitely—probably—a guy.

"Ahh!" he yelped in response to the guy-who-was-probably-male reaching out and grabbing his ass. "What the hell do you think you're doing?!" Swatting the offending hand off, Ryan turned to confront the ass-grabber. "Next time you try to molest me, I'm going to kick you in the face, pervert."

"You're a guy?!"

"Oh, you finally noticed," Ryan drawled, rolling his eyes as he started pushing the supply cart again. "It's not like I have a really feminine figure, you know." _Jackass._

"Hey, _you_ were the one wearing baggy clothes. What, you couldn't find a uniform that actually fit?"

"And just because I was wearing baggy clothes, _you_ assumed that I was a girl and decided to grope my ass," Ryan sneered. "You're not really familiar with Earth-logic are you, Chachi?"

"Don't call me Chachi," Pissy Pervert guy snapped. "The name's Richard, got that, kid?"

"Whatever you say, Dick."

"And don't call me Dick, either, kid."

"The guy who just groped my ass does _not_ get to specify what I can and can't call him. Now back off, I've got stuff to clean."

Ryan turned away from Pissy Pervert guy, pushing the cart toward the room where the "call" he was getting seemed to be strongest.

"I don't recall ever meeting you, kid," Pissy Pervert guy said, falling into step beside him as he continued to walk. "I've got a good memory for faces, too."

"I'm new," Ryan lied easily as they finally made it to the door of the room Ryan wanted to be inside. The call was really strong now, throbbing in his shoulders and making him want to be inside that room, just so he could find out what the hell was going on.

"Oh, I guess that makes sense," the guy said as he continued to keep pace with Ryan as he walked.

"Don't you have some other place to be? You look like a pretty busy guy," Ryan said, trying not to make the get-the-hell-away-from-me vibes too strong, not wanting to piss the guy off too much.

"I don't really have anywhere to be right now," the guy said, slinging an arm around Ryan's shoulders as they walked, even as Ryan tried not to cringe. "Besides, I'd like to do something to make up for the way I treated you when we first met."

"You mean for the way you groped my ass," Ryan said, giving the guy a sidelong look. He seemed to have a fairly good sense of humor, so Ryan figured it was safe to screw with him a little.

"Yeah, that," the guy said, chuckling in a slightly self-deprecating manner.

"I kinda need to get in this room," Ryan said, once they stood before the door.

"Just use your pass-code, small fry."

_Crap._ "Well, I'd do that, but I kind of forgot it." Ryan gently rapped himself on the head with his knuckles. "Mind like a sieve, me."

"No wonder they stuck you out here with the scutwork," the guy remarked, grinning as he punched in a certain combination into the keypad by the right side of the door.

Ryan didn't even bother trying to memorize it, since judging by what ol' Dick had said, the code was different for everyone. So trying to get into the rooms with a "borrowed" door code probably wasn't the best idea, or even a possible one, given the way all these guys seemed to be completely obsessive about their security.

One of the guys inside the room—someone in a long lab coat who Ryan didn't have to look at that long to recognize as a scientist—turned to look him over.

"What are you doing in here?"

Since the question was obviously directed at him, Ryan answered, "Mopping. Maybe a side of dusting, too. I'm not completely sure about that, but mostly I'm here for the mopping."

"Let me see your work order," one of the stuffier-looking scientists huffed, holding out his hand.

_And, of course, double crap._ "I think I left that in my other uniform."

"You mean the one that actually _fits_?" Dick ribbed, grinning.

"Yeah," Ryan said, smirking back. "I kind of overslept and had to get dressed in a hurry. And then I couldn't find my locker… but all that's in the past now," Ryan said, shrugging with what he hoped was convincing nonchalance. "And I've got mopping to do. So I'm just going to go over there and start, yeah?" Ryan said, pointing over at the far wall of the room.


	18. Attempted Deception

The call was throbbing in his shoulders now, but Ryan wasn't going to try and fight his way past that many people, even if some of them did look pretty weedy. Instead, he was going to work his way closer slowly, in a manner that wouldn't make anyone suspicious. These guys were probably capable of calling up those goons he'd been running from in the first place. _On the other hand, going over to look at that gigantic cocoon-thingy might be just what someone in this situation would do._

"So," Ryan called over his shoulder. "What's that big thing you guys seem so interested in?"

"What we're studying here is of no consequence to _you_," one of the other scientists said snootily. "You just concentrate on your work."

"Yes, _sir_," Ryan said. _Asshole._

Turning back to the tract of floor he'd set himself up to mop, he tried to ignore the throbbing in his shoulders. He pretty much knew where it was coming from now: that huge-ass cocoon on the floor in the center of the room was giving off a seriously strong vibe to whatever it was that had jammed itself in his back. That was going to make it a little harder to ignore the thing while he went about pretending to work, but that was what he had to do if he was going to get the chance to look at that thing without getting in trouble with the goon squad.

When he heard the door slide open, he almost turned to look over his shoulder to see who had just come in. Then he figured that that wouldn't have been a very janitor-ish thing to do, so he kept mopping. When the guy started talking—he knew it was a guy from the sound of his voice—he started to wonder just why it was that he sounded so familiar.

Where would he have heard this guy's voice?

Casually turning to look over his shoulder, all the while making sure he kept mopping, Ryan nearly jumped out of his skin. It was Mr. Badass himself! _I was sure I lost that guy somewhere around my fifth right turn! Lousy, crud-munching Volvo-humper._

Turning back to his mopping, Ryan tried to make himself as small and inconspicuous as he could. When the guys in the room started talking about "that tricky green-eyed bastard," Ryan started to wish he'd found a pair of sunglasses to put on over his very obviously green eyes. When he glanced over at the guys who were talking about him, he bit his tongue to keep himself from jumping when Dick pointed him out to Mr. Badass.

Ryan turned back to his mopping, moving more quickly so he'd hopefully persuade Mr. Badass to not try and have a chat with him. He jumped slightly when he saw Mr. Badass heading for him, especially since the guy had a rather unpleasant look on his face. Subtly picking up a bottle full of bleach, Ryan braced it against the cart and pushed/twisted the cap off, palmed it, and tossed it onto the cart's bottom shelf. Now, at least, he had a weapon.

When a large, meaty hand clamped down on his shoulder, Ryan turned his most annoying – at least according to other people – smirk on the guy.

"_You_!"

"That's right, Chachi," Ryan drawled, waggling his eyebrows at the guy. "And I've got something else for you!"

Throwing the bottle of bleach forward with all the force he could muster in the confined space he had to work with, Ryan was rewarded with the sight of a large amount of its contents splashing into Mr. Badass' face. Shoving the cart at him and making sure his own hand was still closed firmly around the handle of the bottle of bleach – pretty much the only weapon he had right now – Ryan turned and ran.

_I hope I can find another way out of this room, _Ryan thought as he ducked a swing aimed to knock him over and then deliberately spilled some bleach on the floor to trip up his pursuers. _If I can't, then I'm in some seriously deep shit._

There was someone – someone like _him_, someone connected to what he was, somehow – and that person was in very grave danger. He wanted to help, but the other one was far away from where he was, and for some reason he couldn't move. So the person he wanted to help would have to get closer to him. That meant that he would have to find a way to communicate with the one who was like him.

The one who was in danger.

He tried, but the one he was trying to communicate with didn't respond the first time; he seemed to be too preoccupied with the danger he was in. It was good that he was trying to keep himself safe, but from the feeling he was getting from his… counterpart, he didn't have much hope to get out of the situation he was in. That was why he was going to have to try harder to contact him.

_**You have to listen to me! Get closer to the… the cocoon! It's your only chance to get out of there!**_

He could sense that his counterpart was worried—worried about his pursuers catching him, but worried about something else as well. There would be time to find out what else he was worried about once the two of them were safe, since this place – whatever or wherever it was – was dangerous to the both of them. The ones out there were trying to get inside his cocoon, trying to break open the only thing that was keeping him safe and out of their hands, and the only way that the both of them were going to get out of this place safely was if his counterpart came with him; he could sense that somehow.

_**Listen to me, you have to get to cocoon! It's your only chance to get out of here!**_

He could feel his counterpart responding to him, moving closer and finally touching the cocoon that he was staying inside. Once his counterpart was close enough, he started to open the cocoon.

_**I can save you! Please, let me.**_

**Sure thing. Just make sure you know what you're doing.**

Focusing, he opened the cocoon just long enough to let his counterpart fall inside—just long enough to be able to protect them both.


	19. Meeting of Minds

_**Who are you?**_

**Well, who are you? And thanks for the assist, by the way.**

_**I'm… Sho… Crouger… um, who are you?**_

**I'm… Ryan… Fukamachi?**

_**I… somehow I don't think that sounds right.**_

**Yeah, you're right. So, who do you think we are?**

_**I'm… I'm sorry, but I'm just not sure.**_

**Well, I guess I can't blame you for that. I'm not even sure myself.**

_**So, what can we do?**_

**About what?**

_**Well, I can't explain it, but just I have this feeling that we should be doing something.**_

**Fair enough. You have any idea just what you're supposed to be doing?**

_**Not… not really.**_

**Great.**

_**But I do know that it's something important.**_

**Or so you hope.**

_**What does that mean?**_

**I'm playing Devil's Advocate here; work with me.**

_**Oh. I guess you're right, though. I don't really know that what I'm talking about is anything more than just some crazy fantasy.**_

**Now you're getting the idea.**

_**Well, do **_**you**_** have any idea what we're doing in here?**_

**Not a one. What's your point?**

_**Well, then, why don't we just go with mine?**_

**You mean the one where we're superheroes with some great Purpose?**

_**Is that really so hard to believe? Look at where we are.**_

**We could have just been abducted by aliens, you know.**

_**Well, okay. Maybe you're right. But still, don't you want to find out what happened to us?**_

**Yeah, I guess so.**

_**Then you'll help me?**_

**Sure.**

_**Great. First what we need to do is get out of here.**_

**You mean get out of this… whatever it is that we're stuck inside?**

_**No. Well, not yet at least.**_

**Why?**

_**Because this… This thing is all that protecting us.**_

**Okay, you've lost me again. Protecting us from what?**

_**From… From something bad.**_

**And that tells me exactly nothing.**

_**I know. I just can't explain it right now.**_

**Obviously.**

_**Just… help me with this, will you?**_

**All right. What do you want me to do?**

_**Think of someplace.**_

**What kind of place?**

_**Somewhere where you feel…**_

**Where I feel what?**

_**I… well, I was going to say protected, but I don't think there's anywhere like that.**_

**I might know a place.**

_**Really? Then think of it, please. I have a feeling I can get us there.**_

**If you say so…**


	20. Strange Angel Rescue

Dr. Balkus, staring at the mysterious cocoon that had somehow absorbed the Fifth Guyver, fumed silently. He could now sense two minds within the solid shell of the cocoon that had been discovered at the remains of Mt. Minakami. Seeing the Fifth Guyver disappear into that cocoon had been strange, even for one such as he, who had seen so much, but the fact that the cocoon had resisted all of their attempts to open it in order to extract the Fifth Guyver made it an even more extreme annoyance.

His underlings had not been at all pleased with those developments, either. Yet, in the manner of the Relic from which it had presumably originated, the cocoon steadily resisted all of Chronos' attempts to breach its outer hull. There had even been some who had suggested dealing with the cocoon in the same manner that they had dealt with the Relic. While it was an option to have Zoanoids try and open the cocoon, Dr. Balkus did not want to risk damaging the Fifth Guyver and anything else that might have been inside.

When the cocoon started pulsing, resembling a human heartbeat more than anything else, the doctor's first reaction was surprise. The bright bursts of light grew more intense with each pulse, and he had to squint his eyes and close his pupils to keep himself from being at the very least temporarily blinded. When the last and brightest flash of light had cleared, Dr. Balkus fully re-opened his eyes and pupils without a second's hesitation.

What he saw once he had did not please him at all: the Relic cocoon had vanished. Stepping into the space on the floor that the Relic cocoon had occupied only scant seconds before, Dr. Balkus sensed a great deal of residual energy. There was, of course, no real way to trace that energy to wherever it had come from or gone to, and as much as he was loath to have to do it, he knew that he would have to wait for confirmation from another group of Zoanoids before he could know where to look for the Relic cocoon.

It was not a situation that he liked at all.

XxXxX

The first thing that Ryan's waking mind became aware of was the warmth, and then the feel of some slimy, quasi-liquid pressing in all around him, covering him from head to toe, and a few other places in between that Ryan really wasn't too eager to think about. Snapping back into full awareness about a minute after he'd made that little realization, Ryan began to thrash around in the slime.

Whatever it was that he was stuck inside of was pitch black, and at the moment all that Ryan could think of was how much he wanted the hell _out_ of there. His flailing fingers caught on a ridge, and the action was unexpected enough that Ryan stopped thrashing and started to feel along the seam. It really did feel big enough to stick his fingers in. There was also a chance that he would be able to open it, if he could just get a good hold on that edge.

Working the fingers of both hands into the seam, Ryan started to try and pry open the thing that was holding him prisoner. Growling and just managing to keep himself from swearing at the uncooperative Whatsis, Ryan started putting more force into his arms. Ryan knew that he basically had no leverage, since he was currently lying on his side with no way at all to stand up, but Ryan was determined to get out of this dark and slimy thing even if it took him all day.

Finally, after who knew how long, Ryan started to see some kind of light shining in through a crack that he had managed to open. He didn't know just what kind of light it was—daylight or something else —but at the moment Ryan was too glad not to be confined completely to the pitch black sliminess that he'd woken up in to care much about the quality of the light. Time would tell if Ryan would have any cause to regret that.

Pushing outward with all of his strength again, having taken a rest to catch his breath after seeing the crack of light, Ryan took no notice of the soft pulsing in the region of his shoulder blades. He did notice it when the thing he was struggling to open suddenly started opening much more easily, though. When he had opened the thing holding him by about six inches, Ryan noticed that there was a thin, filmy membrane further separating him from the outside world.

Without a second of hesitation, Ryan tore through the membrane with his fingernails. Turning around in the slime that still clung to his body, Ryan twisted his legs until they were directly underneath his body, grabbed the open part of the slimy, coffin-like thing, and _heaved_. The thing came open much more easily. Pulling his legs out of the slime, which he noticed was still warm when it was inside the container-thing, Ryan braced his feet against the edge and pushed.

Once it had opened as far as Ryan was sure it was going to, he noticed the other guy who was lying in the slime. He was mostly covered by another part of the container-thing that was still closed, and he was also still stuck under the membrane. Huffing in slight annoyance, Ryan pulled open the membrane and grabbed the guy's arms and started pulling.

The slime, though it _was_ nice and warm, was also thick and nasty. It clung to everything, making it incredibly had for Ryan to even move. Growling, Ryan stuck his feet back into the slime and stood up, then leaned back, pulling the other guy along with him as he moved. Ryan managed to budge him about an inch.

Rolling his eyes and muttering various curse words—some of them in Spanish—Ryan turned around, still wading hip-deep in the slime, grabbed the other guy's arms again, and started pulling again. Now that his feet were better able to push against the bottom of the container-thing, Ryan found that it was easier to move the other guy.

With a particularly unpleasant half-sucking, half-popping sound, the guy Ryan had been trying to pull out of the slime came free, rather more violently than Ryan himself had been counting on. Rubbing his stomach where it had slammed into the closed part of the container-thing, Ryan swore softly.

"I really hope you're worth me getting bruises on my internal organs, guy," Ryan grumbled, sighing in annoyance.

Slogging back through the thick slime, Ryan hoisted the other guy up on his back and started for the edge of the container-thing again, dragging the other guy over to the side of the greenish thing and trying to ignore the squelching noises. Ryan unwrapped his right arm from around the black-haired boy, grabbed him under both arms with little regard for any discomfort the other might have been experiencing, and hauled them both up to stand on the top of the greenish container-thing.

Once he had managed to get them both all the way out of the slime, Ryan took a chance to look around. What he saw surprised him, even after all the weird things he'd been exposed to.

"Hey, I remember this place," Ryan muttered, looking around at the huge towers of rock. "This is the Garden of the Gods. How did I end up all the way out here? Last thing I remember, I was in a hospital somewhere. I don't suppose _you'd_ know anything about that," Ryan said, then he chuckled.

Here he was, trying to get answers from an unconscious guy. _I must be nuts,_ Ryan mused. Then, shaking his head in weary amusement, Ryan stepped down out of the greenish container-thing and stood on solid ground again. He didn't know just how far he had gone since being knocked out in the hospital in Colorado; he didn't know that he had been transported halfway around the world in the absence of his consciousness. All that Ryan knew was that he was currently standing in the Garden of the Gods without a single thing on and with some guy he didn't even know hanging on his back.

"Well, fuck," Ryan muttered, wondering just how he was going to get home with the shape he was in.

That was when fortune, this time in the form of Sho Fukamachi, decided to deal him a better hand.

XxXxX

Sho, slowly struggling back to consciousness after being asleep for he didn't know how long, opened his eyes and found himself staring at a bright red blur. As his vision slowly cleared, Sho realized that the blur was in fact the back of someone's head. Since Sho didn't have any friends with bright red hair, he was instinctively wary of this new person. However, in direct contrast to this feeling of wariness, there was the slight inclination to trust this new person.

In the end, Sho didn't know what to think.

Then, as his vision cleared a bit further, Sho finally noticed that the person he had been staring at had the boost-stimulus tissue that all Guyvers had on their backs. Sho was dumbfounded—he had thought that there were only three Guyvers anywhere on Earth. That was what Lisker had told him, and then Agito and Professor Odagiri had confirmed that. There was just no way that this new person could be a Guyver.

And yet, that was just what all of his senses seemed to be telling him. Sho was completely confused, but then he decided to try and communicate with this new Guyver. Sho only hoped that he wasn't anything like Lisker. Sho didn't want to try and fight another Guyver, even with all that he had learned about their powers as such.

_+Hello?+_

Sho heard the other Guyver's surprised yelp and quickly wrapped his arms around the unknown boy's waist to keep himself from hitting the ground face-first. That was when he noticed the strange, organic-looking cocoon sitting on the ground beneath them. Sho could see that the red-haired boy was still standing in the fluid that was inside the cocoon, though now he could also see that the boy was completely naked.

Sho looked down at himself, finally noticing that he was, too. The Guyver with red hair asked something then, or at least that was the impression that Sho got judging from the slight lilt at the end of his sentence. When he turned around, Sho let go of his waist and sat down in the fluid. The boy with the red hair turned to look at him, and it was only then that Sho noticed his green eyes.

He asked something else in that unfamiliar language, which Sho was now starting to recognize as English. True, he'd had to study English in school, but that had been a long time ago, and Sho had forgotten a lot of the lessons. Not that they would have been of that much help, though, since the school hadn't really been teaching conversational English.

"I'm sorry, but I don't understand anything you're saying," Sho said, craning his neck to look up at the English-speaking redhead.


	21. Coming Home

The boy groaned, probably in frustration, given the expression on his face and the way he scrubbed at it with both hands. Then he gracelessly plopped himself down in front of Sho and just stared for a minute.

_+If you want to talk, I'll listen.+_

The look of abject, stunned surprise on the other boy's face gave Sho an idea of exactly how much explaining he was going to have to do for the other boy's benefit. Trying to think about what Agito had told him during the first battle with the Hyper Zoanoid Team Five, Sho managed to remember what Agito had said when it had been him in almost the same situation.

_+We Guyvers can communicate telepathically through the organisms on our backs,+_ Sho stated for the red-haired boy's benefit. Seeing that the expression on the boy's face had become one of startled puzzlement, Sho decided that he would explain in more detail. _+You should be able to communicate with me if you concentrate. We're linked through our Guyver units, after all.+_

_+You mean you can hear this?+_

_+Yes, I can hear you,+ _Sho said, trying to be reassuring.

_+Oh, good. That means I'm not going insane.+_

_+No, you're definitely not going insane, though there might be times you'll wish you were.+_

Even though he'd been trying to keep any of his own emotions from showing, Sho still found that his sadness was somehow projected along with his words. The sympathetic look on the red-haired boy's face clinched it in Sho's mind.

_+How bad was it for you?+_

_+Bad. And please—don't ask me anything more about it,+_ Sho pleaded.

_+Don't worry. Hey, what's your name, anyway? I can't just go calling you 'hey you' when we finally learn to speak the same language.+_

_+My name is Sho Fukamachi. What's yours?+_

_+I'm Ryan Crouger. I don't suppose you've seen Nightmare on Elm Street, have you?+_

_+No, I haven't,+ _Sho said, confused.

_+Good. I hate that old joke.+_

Sho, not knowing exactly how to respond to the red-haired boy's – to Ryan's – words, decided to change the subject. _+How did you find the Guyver, anyway? I thought there were only three.+_

_+I don't know anything about that, but I found this big dartboard-looking thing in a cave. I just dropped in and, well, there it was.+_

_+You touched it, didn't you?+_ Sho said, his mental tone rueful.

_+Well, I would have had to, since I ended up like this,+ _Ryan said, winking a bright green eye.

_+I guess you would have,+_ Sho said, nodding and chuckling a bit himself.

_+Well, that takes care of the introductions,+ _Ryan said, tilting his head and smiling at Sho. _+Now there's only the problem of getting out of here with no clothes, no shoes, and no one knowing where we are.+_

_+Where are we, exactly?+_

_+We,+ _Ryan said with a dramatic sweep of his arm,_ +are currently sitting somewhere in the Garden of the Gods. Completely naked, of course, and up to our waists in some kind of slimy ooze—either that, or some kind of oozy slime; I haven't quite managed to figure out the distinction yet.+_

The tone of Ryan's voice was at odds with the just-waiting-to-grin expression that was breaking out on his face. Sho found himself laughing in spite of the previously stated seriousness of their situation. When he'd finally managed to regain his composure—not an easy thing when sitting naked in slime—Sho decided to try and see if the two of them might be able to get a handle on the situation.

_+What do you think we should do?+_

_+You're asking me? Me, the guy who doesn't even know what a Guyver is? Okay; I have no idea.+_

Sho chuckled. _+I guess it wasn't the best idea. Well, I guess I'll have to think of something, then.+_

Ryan, whom Sho noticed was starting to look a bit tired, shifted so that he could lean against the side of the cocoon that they both sat in. Looking closer at the cocoon, Sho found that it looked a lot like the Relic. Even the slime, as annoying as it was, was kind of similar to what had been inside the Relic. _Maybe this cocoon was originally a part of the Relic. It would explain a few things, I guess; still, the last thing I remember was being disintegrated by that Zoalord._

Sho shuddered as he remembered the feeling of his own skin being charred and vaporized. Of course, it hadn't really been _his_ skin: it had been the Guyver's, but he _was_ the Guyver, so it really _had_ been his skin at the time. All of these thoughts, though, were just a distraction from something else. Something, or rather, someone, that Sho really didn't want to think about.

Mr. Murakami. Mr. Murakami was dead.

Even the thought of it wasn't something that Sho could stand for very long, and he shied away as if the merest reminder was painful to him. The worst part of it was that he hadn't even been there for Mr. Murakami when he died. The only thing that he had been able to do was to hold his body. Even then, he hadn't been able to do that for very long—not with all of the Zoalords attacking him.

Sho hated the fact that he hadn't even been able to say goodbye, and also that he hadn't been able to recover Mr. Murakami's body. Sho knew Mr. Murakami well enough to know that he wouldn't have wanted his body to stay in any place that Chronos had control over. Sho knew that it was too late for him to do anything about that, but he still found himself hoping that nothing had happened to Mr. Murakami's body. Even though there wasn't anything he could have done, Sho still thought that he should have helped Mr. Murakami somehow.

Still, now wasn't the time to think about things that he couldn't change. Seeing Ryan, dozing while he leaned on the edge of what Sho found himself thinking of as the Relic's cocoon, reminded Sho that he had other things to think about.

_+Ryan, you said we were in the Garden of the Gods, right?+_

_+That's what I said.+_

_+Where is that, exactly?+_

_+It's just outside of Colorado Springs, my hometown. I always wished I could come out here when I have a bad day, but this place really isn't within walking distance of my house. I really never imagined I'd be stuck out here naked with another guy, though.+_

Ryan chuckled, and Sho found himself smiling as well. The situation did have its elements of humor, but there was still the matter of getting out of this place, even as beautiful as it was. They were out in the open, vulnerable to any Zoanoid that might come across them. Even if they were Guyvers, an army of Zoanoids would eventually overwhelm even them. Sho wanted to be somewhere… else—somewhere safe, at least for the time being. As Sho concentrated harder, his eyes slipped closed almost of their own volition, so he missed the fact that Ryan's eyes fluttered and closed only half a minute later. As Sho wondered where he would ever manage to find a place where they would both be safe from Chronos even for a short time, he started to feel a gentle pulsing coming from the region of his shoulders. It almost felt like his Guyver was responding to something.

After what seemed like about fifteen minutes or thereabouts, Sho felt the pulsing in his shoulders lessen from a dull throb to a barely noticeable tingle and then fade away to nothing. Opening his eyes, Sho found that they were no longer in the Garden of the Gods. In fact, they weren't even outside anymore. Instead, they were inside a building.

The place where they now sat looked very comfortable, if a little bit too cluttered for Sho's taste. The overstuffed chairs and couch, combined with the warm, almost buttery colors of the drapery, carpet, and walls only added to the feeling of calmness that Sho got from the place. Still, Sho knew not to trust appearances anymore.

_+Just how in the heck did we end up here?+_

_+Ryan? You know this place?+_

_+I'd have to be pretty dense not to, considering that this is my living room and all.+_

_+We're in your house?+_

_+That's about the long and the short of it, yeah.+_

Sho noticed then that Ryan was starting to climb out of the Relic cocoon, scraping some of the excess slime off his feet by rubbing them against the edges Sho turned away, looking around at the room where he had somehow ended up. Noticing that Ryan had left the room, Sho climbed up and out of the Relic cocoon as well. Now that he wasn't so focused on the potential problem of Zoanoids coming to find them, Sho found himself really noticing the sticky slime that coated him almost from head to toe.

It wasn't a feeling that Sho enjoyed.


	22. Hospitality

_+Ryan, where did you go?+_

_+I'm taking a shower, then I'm going to stop off at my room and get some clothes. You look like you'd be able to fit in some of mine, Sho. Want to borrow some?+_

_+I… thank you, Ryan. That's very generous of you.+_

_+No problem. It can't be easy to deal with this kind of thing, so I figured we could help each other deal.+_

_+Thank you,+_ Sho repeated, not quite sure what else to say right then.

As Sho climbed up and out of the Relic cocoon, he made sure to scrape the excess slime off of his feet. The thick carpet was soft under his feet, and Sho wiggled his toes to get a better feel of it.

_+Mom always had a thing for shag carpet.+_

Sho turned slightly, looking at Ryan. The other Guyver was clad in a pale blue bathrobe, and Sho noticed that his hair looked a great deal messier than it had before.

_+I pulled out some extra towels for you, so you can go take a shower if you want.+_

_+Thank you, Ryan. Where is your shower?+_

_+It's down the hall, second door on the left. The third one's my room; I'll be in there if you need me.+_

Sho nodded as Ryan walked away, following the directions that the other Guyver had given him. Sho counted the doors, finding his way to the bathroom quickly and opening the door. The showerhead drew his attention first, and for a moment he wondered where the furo was. Ryan hadn't told him about that, but then again he hadn't really asked. Something that big would probably be very easy to find, though.

Walking over to what was obviously the shower, Sho was surprised to see that there was a sunken tub in the room—an _empty_ tub, and he wondered who would have though to put a shower inside a tub in the first place. It was a strange design in general, but since he really wanted to take a shower, Sho decided that he would just ignore the differences and take his shower.

Wincing slightly as his bare feet touched the cold porcelain, Sho walked up to the taps and turned on the hot water. As the spray touched him, Sho winced again. He wondered how Ryan could stand taking showers with the water this hot. Ducking out from under the almost scalding spray, Sho adjusted the cold tap until the water was comfortable enough for him to stand under. Looking around, Sho found some bars of soap and a bottle of what looked like shampoo.

Picking up the soap, Sho began to wash up.

XxXxX

Ryan yawned, kicking off his slippers as he lounged on his bed. His entire body felt like freshly tenderized steak, so Ryan knew that he wasn't going to go anywhere soon. Just as his eyes closed, Ryan heard his door opening.

_+Hey, Sho. Did you find everything all right?+_

_+I did. Thank you, Ryan. I think your shampoo made my scalp itch, though.+_

_+Huh; it's never done that to me before. Are you sure you got the right bottle?+_

_+Well, it was the one in the white bottle on the rim of the bathtub.+_

_+White bottle on the…? Wait, you didn't actually use that on your hair, did you?+_

_+Wasn't I supposed to?+_

_+No! Geez, no wonder you're itching; you just washed your hair with my liquid soap!+ _Ryan giggled a little. _+Go wash your hair again, Sho; you're going to be itching all day if you don't. And use one of the bottles on the shelf this time, ya doof.+_

_+I'll do that; thank you Ryan.+_

_+Not a problem,+ _Ryan said, turning over and curling up in his bed again. He could faintly hear the sound of water running, since Sho had left his door open and he didn't have any music on at the moment. When the water turned off, Ryan listened for the sound of his door opening. That would let him know that Sho was back.

XxXxX

As Sho, having just dried his hair for the second time with the towel that Ryan had provided for him, made his way back to Ryan's room, he noticed that he was starting to get a bit tired himself. It probably had something to do with how long he had spent inside that strange cocoon, or maybe it was from having somehow pulled Ryan into the cocoon with him. Sho could just barely remember his time spent there, but he could recall at least a few things.

One of them was the impression of someone, most likely Ryan himself, being in some kind of danger. Sho had wanted to do something; he could remember at least that much, and then all he could remember was waking up next to Ryan in the Garden of the Gods. When he reached Ryan's room again, Sho thought Ryan had fallen asleep, so he was surprised to hear the other Guyver's voice over their link.

_+Make sure you close my door this time, all right, Sho?+_

_+All right, Ryan.+_

Sho gently closed Ryan's door, pulling it until he heard the latch click. Walking over to the bed where Ryan lay sleeping, he wondered for a moment if he should wake the other Guyver to ask if he could take a nap on his bed, but then, Ryan _had_ been willing to share his house and the things within it, so maybe the red-haired boy wouldn't mind so much if Sho took a nap next to him.

At least, Sho hoped that was true.

When he came up to the bed, though, he noticed that there was something white sticking out from under Ryan's bed. Crouching to pick it up, he saw that it was an empty water bottle. _Why would Ryan have an empty water bottle under his bed?_ Kneeling down so he could take a look under the other Guyver's bed, Sho found that the water bottle wasn't the only thing that the red-haired boy had under there: there were also a couple books, as well as two more empty water bottles. Sho took all of these out from under the bed. Looking around for something to put them on so that they would be out of Ryan's way but still easy to find, Sho set them down on the chair that he found by Ryan's desk. Then, as another wave of tiredness hit him, he lay down on the bed opposite Ryan, pulled up the covers, and fell asleep.


	23. Hunting a Mystery

The scans had finally located the Relic cocoon—at least, that was what Lord Hamilcal had told him when he had been deployed to this nondescript neighborhood in the Colorado Springs area. As Imakarum, leading a group of six Standard Zoanoids, approached the location that they'd been given, the Twelfth Zoalord wondered again just how and why the Relic cocoon had appeared inside a suburban home.

That was what he and his group were currently approaching: a fairly large and well-kept suburban dwelling. He could already sense that there were no humans in the front room, which was where Lord Hamilcal had detected the two energy surges from the Relic cocoon. What the purpose of those surges was, exactly, aside from being concurrent with the cocoon's disappearance from the Dead Sea Plant, was what Imakarum and his Zoanoids had been dispatched to ascertain.

Reaching the door, Imakarum settled his hand against the doorknob and pushed, shattering the latch. Walking into the house, the Twelfth Zoalord was confronted by two separate and distinctly annoying things: the first was the fact that the Relic cocoon was nowhere to be found; the second was the dog barking loudly at him. The animal was fairly large, vaguely wolflike in appearance, and making a rather large nuisance of itself. Therefore, he felt no remorse for using his telekinesis to slam it against the wall of the main room until it fell silent, though if he had known just how that action would affect his chances of recapturing the Fifth Guyver, he might have reconsidered.

XxXxX

It was Raider's barking that woke him up first; the Husky sounded like he was being menaced by an entire army of strangers. Probably another damn squirrel had gotten in though the basement. Those things were a menace. Ryan was just about to flop back into bed and try to fall asleep again when he heard five loud thumps. Then Raider fell silent. Ryan woke up instantly, like someone had jammed a cattle prod into his back.

Turning to Sho, Ryan shook the other boy awake a bit more forcefully than he would have if he hadn't been so worried about his dog.

_+What is it, Ryan?+_

_+I think there's someone in the house. Listen.+_

Ryan watched as Sho turned toward the door, and then the other boy tensed up suddenly. Wondering what was going on, Ryan was a bit more surprised by what Sho said next.

_+Zoanoids!+_

_+What?+_

_+There are Zoanoids here! We have to get out, now!+_

_+What the hell are Zoanoids?+_

_+There's no time! We have to get out here, right now!+_

Sho was practically in hysterics by now, but in a calm kind of way that didn't involve yelling and running around. Sho's brand of hysterics was more the kind of twitchy, paranoid, I'm-just-about-to-_crack_ kind of thing that Ryan had seen in his dad a few times.

_+All right, come on. Follow me.+_

Pulling Sho over to the shelves that Dad had installed in his closet, Ryan started up. Heading for the trapdoor in the ceiling—the one that his dad never seemed to get around to nailing shut like he said he would—Ryan climbed quickly.

_+What are you doing, Ryan?+_

_+You're the one who said we needed to get out of here fast,+_ Ryan pointed out reasonably. _+This is the fastest way you're going to find.+_

_+What are you talking about?+_

_+Let's just say that there are some serious advantages to design flaws.+_

Sho looked at him weirdly as Ryan scaled the shelves.

_+Don't worry, these things'll definitely hold your weight. When Dad bolts things into the wall, he doesn't mess around.+_

_+How is this going to help us get out without the Zoanoids spotting us?+_

_+We're going through the attic; that'll keep those Zoanoid-whatevers from being able to see us. Hell, they won't even know we're here.+_

_+All right, Ryan. I trust your judgment.+_

_+Thanks.+_

As the two of them scaled the mostly unused shelves, Ryan brushed the ceiling with his fingertips, prepping himself to shove open the trapdoor when the time came. After six more steps on his part, that time had finally come. Shoving the trapdoor up and out of his way, Ryan caught the edge before it could slam into the attic floor. If what Sho was saying was true, and the guy did honestly look freaked-out enough that Ryan was willing to believe him, then any loud sounds would give them away.

Climbing up all the way into the attic, Ryan turned around and helped Sho to climb up the rest of the way. Once Sho was inside, Ryan gently closed the trapdoor and led Sho across the room to another trapdoor. This one, however, came fully equipped with a flight of stairs – or a rudimentary ladder, depending on how one looked at things – built in. Ryan carefully unlatched the second trapdoor and let it down slowly.

_+Where are we now, Ryan?+_

_+We're in the hall, just outside the kitchen now. We'll be able to get to the garage a lot quicker than if we'd gone the long way.+_

_+What's in the garage?+_

_+My dirtbike; I figure we've got a better chance of getting away from those Zoanoids of yours if we're on wheels.+_

_+Oh; I hadn't thought of that.+ _Sho still seemed a bit worried, though. _+Are you sure we're going to be able to make it our of here without any of the Zoanoids hearing us, though?+_

_+You sensed them when they were near my room, and the kitchen's practically on the other side of the house. We'll be fine.+_

That seemed to calm Sho down a bit, though Ryan wasn't sure if what he had just said was true or not. The last thing he wanted to deal with was Sho freaking out on him, though, so Ryan didn't say anything else. Now at the bottom of the ladder, Ryan checked the hallway in front and behind to make sure it was clear of those Zoa-things Sho seemed so eager to avoid. It wasn't as if he knew exactly what to look for, so Ryan was just making sure that the way to the kitchen was empty.

As far as he could see, and, to a certain extent, hear, it was, so he and Sho made their way to the kitchen with Ryan in the lead since he was the one who knew where they were going. Once they had made it to the kitchen, Ryan stole a glance inside before he led Sho to the door at the front of the large room.

_+You still getting those bad vibes you told me about?+_

_+What?+_

_+Are there still Zoanoids in the house with us, or can we head back to bed?+_

_+Oh. Yes, the Zoanoids are still here, Ryan. They're a bit harder to sense than they were before, which I think means they're farther away.+_

_+Well, let's be grateful for small favors, then,+_ Ryan said, grinning. _+And let's also get the hell out of here before any of them gets the bright idea to come in here after us.+_

Taking Sho's silence for the agreement that it was, Ryan led the other boy across the kitchen floor to the door that would let them into the attached garage. Ryan was just glad that neither of his parents were in the house at the moment, 'cause he'd never have been able to explain _this_. Walking quietly when they were barefoot on the linoleum floor wasn't all too difficult for Ryan since he'd done it a few times before, but wordlessly teaching Sho that same skill more than made up for the relative lack of difficulty there.

Finally reaching the door into the garage, Ryan opened it as quietly as he could, let Sho inside, and then closed it just as quietly behind them.


	24. Friend into Enemy

_+How good are those Zoanoids you mentioned at hearing things?+_

_+Very good,+ _Sho said. _+All of their senses are enhanced, so it's hard to deal with them sometimes.+_

_+Great. That'll make things interesting, at least.+_

_+What are you talking about, Ryan?+_

_+I don't think there's any way to quietly open a garage door, and I _know_ there isn't any way to quietly start up a dirtbike. The thing's almost as loud as a motorcycle, in case you didn't know,+ _Ryan said matter-of-factly.

_+Oh. Are you sure we should be using it, then?+_

_+It may be loud, but it's also the fastest way to get out of here before those Zoanoids you talked about come looking for us again.+_

_+All right, then,+ _Sho said, nodding and accepting the logic of Ryan's argument.

_+Get on and hold tight.+_

So saying, Ryan threw his right leg over the body of his dirtbike, raised the remote that would open the garage door that stood in front of him, and took a deep breath to steady his nerves. If those Zoanoid things really did have enhanced senses like Sho'd said, then this was going to require some serious split-second timing on his part. Pressing down the single button on the garage-door opener, Ryan waited just long enough for the door to open a full three feet, then twisted the throttle open and roared across the empty garage.

_+Sho, lean left.+_

_+When?+_

_+Now!+_

With the combined weight of both teens, Ryan's small dirtbike tipped in record time, forcing Ryan to compensate quickly or risk having the bike fall over entirely. _Note to self, this thing's a lot more tricky with two people on it. +Hey Sho, you all right back there?+_

_+Yes, Ryan, I'm fine, but I don't think I want to do that again.+_

_+I'll second that.+_

As they raced out of sight of his house, passed the last one on the block, and turned the corner, Ryan was already thinking of places that he and Sho could hide out in to avoid being spotted by those Zoa-things.

XxXxX

The sound of gears grinding had been what had originally disturbed Imakarum Mirabilis from his contemplation, but the unmistakable sound of a revving engine was what made the Twelfth Zoalord turn and pay attention.

"Go bring me whoever is attempting to leave this place," Imakarum ordered. "I wish to speak with them."

Imakarum had not been expecting anyone to actually be inside this house at this time of day, especially since neither the winter nor the summer school holidays were in effect. Of course, there was always the chance that this new player in their game was home-schooled, but Imakarum personally doubted that that would be the case. It was odd to consider the possibility that whoever had been inside the building might have seen the Relic cocoon, but then perhaps that was why they had left so quickly.

In Imakarum's experience, humans were not particularly well equipped to deal with things that were so far removed from their meager knowledge—things like the Guyver, or the Relic cocoon. If there had been a human involved in the disappearance of the Relic cocoon, in whatever minor capacity a mere human could have been involved in such things, then Imakarum would find them and deal with them—after he had extracted whatever useful information their tiny minds possessed, of course.

"Your Excellency," the first of his returning Zoanoids, a Chaltu, said breathlessly, "the others have gone out to catch the human that you heard escaping on that motorcycle, but they were unable to do so."

"Why is _that_?" Imakarum demanded. "There are no humans in this area to see you in these forms; even if there _were_ humans in the area, you would have very little trouble dealing with them."

"Th-the others thought i-it would be better to get approval from Lord Amniculus before making any further movements in this area," the Chaltu said, noticeably failing to meet Imakarum's eyes.

For his part, Imakarum was gratified to know that the reason that his Zoanoids had broken off pursuit of the human had been due to their desire to preserve the secrets of Chronos and their respect for the chain of command. He would have had to kill them if their lack of success had been due to their own stupidity, and requesting a new contingent of Zoanoids at this point would have been rather bothersome.

"I will contact Lord Shin presently," Imakarum stated flatly. "Thank you for being so conscientious."

"Yes, milord," the Chaltu said, bowing its head in subservient respect.

Imakarum turned away, leaving the Zoanoid with orders to gather the others of its kind and await further orders from him. _-Lord Shin.-_

_-Yes? What is it, Imakarum?-_

_-The Relic cocoon has not been located as yet, though there was a human in the area where Lord Hamilcal traced the energy signature of its teleportation. I sent out a group of Zoanoids to pursue, but the human has left this area and escaped into an occupied neighborhood.-_

_-That is rather unfortunate, Imakarum. I will see to it that no unprocessed humans are in the way of your progress. You are currently in the northeast section of the Colorado Springs area, correct?-_

_-Yes. That is correct, Lord Shin. I will be in contact with you once my task has been completed, Lord Shin.-_

_-Most commendable, Imakarum; I will await your report.-_

Cutting the mental tether that tied him to the Fourth Zoalord, Imakarum turned his attention back to the mission he was now occupied with. Rejoining his Zoanoids, who were now gathered in the main room of the house after returning Returned from their pursuit, Imakarum looked them over as he prepared to send them out once again.

That human was _not_ going to escape him again.

XxXxX

Ryan was heading almost instinctively for the mall; it was large, crowded, and the expected place for teenagers like him and Sho to hang out. It was sometimes hard for him, what with his bright red hair that he had inherited from his dad, to blend into the crowds at the mall, but then the challenge was part of what made things so interesting. Sho was going to be a bit harder to hide, since he was so obviously not from around the area, but maybe if he could snag a pair of sunglasses, that would take care of that particular problem.

It was something to keep in mind while he tried to keep those Zoanoid things that Sho had mentioned off their tails when they finally stopped moving. They'd need a plan, too, if they were going to keep from getting caught by those Zoanoids, which he needed to discuss with Sho. But all of that could wait until they made it to somewhere more solid than the roads. Somewhere they could actually sit and talk without having to worry about watching out for traffic.

Somewhere that he could get something to eat, preferably.

The sound of a truck engine, somewhat audible over the roar of his dirtbike, had Ryan glancing at the mirror on his left-hand side. Sure enough, a large white truck was coming his way. Maneuvering his bike over to the right shoulder of the road to give the truck room to pass, Ryan shifted his attention back to his driving. When the truck pulled up alongside him, Ryan continued to keep his mind on where he was actually going. He'd found that that was always the best thing to do when you were on the street.

It wasn't really like he had anything to worry about—the thing was just your average, everyday transport truck. It was probably carrying fruit or something.

His stomach's insistent growling reminded Ryan of just why it wasn't such a hot idea for him to be thinking of food at the moment. So, definitely the mall; at least he'd be able to get a snack there, if nothing else. He'd checked for funds when he'd first put on the pants that he was wearing, and he had at least $20 in fives stashed in his right pocket. Ryan knew that that would be enough to get him and Sho a decent meal, at least.

The blast of an air horn alerted Ryan that there was another truck coming up beside him, the first one having disappeared to parts unknown a few minutes ago. Pulling over onto the shoulder again, Ryan waited for this new truck to pass him by as well. When the loud blast of the air horn came again, more prolonged this time, Ryan turned and looked at the truck coming up behind him. It had more than enough room on his left to pass, so he didn't know what the cretin driver was complaining about.

When a third blast from the truck's horn split the air, Ryan turned a withering look on the moron driving the truck. He was tempted to yell at whoever the hell was driving that behemoth, but there wasn't any point in wasting breath on some guy who was both too stupid to even realize what he was doing, and who wouldn't have heard him over the noise of the road anyway.

_+Ryan! Look out!+_

_+What's with you?+_

_+That's a Chronos truck; it's carrying Zoanoids, I know it is. We need to get out of here, now!+_

_+Well, when you put it like that…+_

Cranking the handlebars of his bike hard to the right, Ryan managed to turn it around just before the truck would have slammed into him. Checking his mirror, Ryan watched as the truck tried to mimic his turn with the same kind of speed he'd just demonstrated. Since it was carrying a hell of a lot more weight than his little dirtbike, Ryan was pretty much expecting the truck to tip over. Maybe it wouldn't roll over entirely like in the movies but it probably _would_ end up on its side.

Surprisingly enough, the tight turn _didn't_ cause the truck to spin out and crash; sure, it had tilted pretty severely, but somehow the driver managed to right his truck just as it had started to reach the tipping point. How he did that, Ryan was sure he'd never know. Still, the fact remained that the guy had somehow managed to keep his truck from tipping, and now he was trying to run them over again.

He could do it, too, given the fact that his big-ass truck had a lot more mass and weight than Ryan's little dirtbike. There were two things that he had going for him, though: speed and maneuverability. And Ryan fully intended to milk those two assets for all they were worth at the moment.

Ryan was just starting to think about how best to lose his unwanted pursuer when the truck blew its horn and accelerated toward him like the fucking unstoppable Juggernaut. Ryan chuckled mordantly: if he'd really been facing the Juggernaut, he and Sho would have already been dead by now.


	25. Baptism of Fire

Watching as the truck grew larger in his field of vision, Ryan turned just a split-second before the front end of the truck would have scraped the front end of his bike. The truck passed close enough to his right that he could have reached out and touched it if he'd been so inclined. Not wanting to have his fingertips cut off, Ryan didn't bother trying to test that little hypothesis.

When he heard the unmistakable sound of grinding, shifting gears coming from behind him, Ryan glanced in his left rear-view mirror. Sure enough, there was the truck again, just starting a slow turn and coming back around for him.

_+Don't these fuckers know when to give up?!+_

_+No. They never give up. I've been fighting them for about a year now, and they just keep coming. They don't give up, believe me.+_

_+Sounds like something personal.+_

_+It is. And please, don't ask me anything more about it.+_

_+I'll keep that in mind. Just remember: I'm here if you ever decide you _do _want to talk about things.+_

_+Thank you, Ryan. I'll make sure to remember that.+_

_+Good. Oh, and Sho?+_

_+Yes?+_

_+I want you to lean back as far as you can in about seven seconds.+_

_+What? Why?+_

_+Because there's a car just about to hit us.+_

_+What?!+_

Ryan, grinning slightly insanely as he saw the car bearing down on them, had decided that the best way to get that damned truck off their backs was to put something almost the same size between the two vehicles. The guy in the car was shouting abuse at him, and if Ryan had cared he might have taken the time to yell some of his own.

_+Sho. Lean. Now!+_

Not waiting for Sho's acknowledgment, since he knew that his passenger would do what he wanted – either before or after Ryan's head slammed into his nose – Ryan lunged backwards. As the bike's forward wheel started tipping skyward, Ryan felt Sho leaning back behind him. Ryan just hoped that his luck was going to hold out, since this crazy little move was going to take a lot of it.

Good luck and good timing—the same as most of his more audacious stunts had taken. Not to mention good planning, but that wasn't so much a factor here as it had been when he'd he's actually had the time to make a plan. Lunging forward when his front wheel had cleared the hood of the car, Ryan rode up and over the windshield, across the roof, and down off the trunk. Laughing, slightly insanely, slightly triumphantly, Ryan twisted his throttle open and roared off, confident that he'd made good his escape.

That confidence lasted until he heard the loudest, most aggressively unpleasant crashing noise that he'd ever heard. Even the ones in _Speed_ had nothing on this. Turning to look behind him, Ryan saw that the car he'd leapt over was now a twisted wreck.

"Well _that_ ain't good," Ryan muttered, already starting to search for some other way to get the nutbars in the truck off his back.

It was going to be one hell of a challenge to find something that would be able to keep those guys away when they were willing to ram a car out of their way just to get to him and Sho. But maybe finding something bigger to stick in between the two vehicles wasn't quite the way to go. Maybe it wasn't a bigger obstacle he needed to put between him and the truck, but a lot more distance.

Looking around, Ryan smiled slightly; he was just coming up on one of the rare overpasses in this part of the city. With a little doing and a whole lot of luck, it probably would be possible to put enough distance between himself and his unwanted pursuers to make them give up chasing him entirely. Sho'd said that these Chronos types didn't give up, but then they'd probably never met anyone like him before.

Just as they made it to the middle of the overpass, Ryan spotted the car. It had a nice, shiny white paintjob, which meant that the owner probably wasn't going to be happy with him for doing what he was about to. But then, he didn't know the owner, and the fact that there was a huge truck bearing down with the intent to crush him and Sho into bloody paste with metal bits made it really hard for Ryan to even pretend to care about something like that.

Popping another wheelie and narrowly avoiding smacking Sho in the face with the back of his head, Ryan rode diagonally over the hood of the car and flew over the railing of the overpass.

_+Okay, I'm gonna need you to work with me, Sho. When we hit the street, you're going to have to help me get this thing's balance back.+_

_+Ryan…! I mean- you just-!+_

_+Yeah, I know. Don't worry, I've seen this in the movies.+_

_+Ryan, you can't-+_

_+Look, are you going to help me with this or not?+_

_+I will,+ _Sho said, still sounding a bit shaken.

_+Good, now lean in the opposite direction.+_

_+Right.+_

When the dirtbike slammed into the roadway, Ryan and Sho both worked in tandem to right it again. Knowing that it would be easier for the guys in the truck to find him if he came right out the other side of the overpass, Ryan turned a sharp U and shot out from under the _opposite_ side. Since they'd no doubt be looking for him to come out on the right, where he'd jumped off the overpass, they'd probably get a fair distance into the city before they managed to realize that he'd done no such thing.

XxXxX

"I don't _believe_ this!" Delcasse snarled, slamming on the brakes so hard that for a second Razell was half afraid that his foot would punch a hole in the truck's floor. "Jumping the car was crazy enough, but _that?!_"

"Calm down, D. We'll call some of the others, and they'll help us catch up to that little stuntman wannabe," Razell said, trying to calm down his fellow Zoanoid. "I'd better report in to His Excellency and call for some backup."

Hearing Delcasse's grumbled agreement, in addition to some grumbled obscenities, Razell turned to the comm setup on the dashboard. "This is Razell, reporting in, Your Excellency."

"What is it, Razell?" The deep voice of Lord Imakarum Mirabilis echoed back over the comm.

"We're still in pursuit of the escaped human, Your Excellency, but you're not going to believe what he just did."

"What is it?"

"Well, he kinda just jumped the railing of the overpass we're on."

"He did what?" Lord Imakarum's voice was soft and flat and deadly and brimming with all sorts of unspoken threats that only a Zoalord could really convey.

And not just any Zoalord, either—the only other Zoalord that Razell knew of who could express those kinds of wordless threats with any kind of success was Dr. Balkus, and he was just really damn scary from the get-go. Lord Imakarum's face – gentle and obviously Japanese, while still being average-looking as far as Razell was concerned – could catch you kind of off-guard when he started getting all intense and scary. He just didn't look the type to do something like that.

And that was the _really_ scary part.


	26. Flying High

"He jumped the railing of the overpass on that dirtbike of his."

"He did _what_?"

Razell knew that it would be very bad for his continued health if he said something snarky in response to Lord Imakarum's question, so he just answered with the bald facts as he'd witnessed them. "He rode up over the hood of a car, and he jumped off the edge of the overpass."

"So he would be dead now," His Excellency said flatly, making it very clear that he wasn't really asking a question.

Razell took a deep breath and hoped that he would still be breathing when he finished making his report to Lord Imakarum. "I… I don't think that's true in this case, Your Excellency. He wouldn't have done something that drastic if he wasn't sure he would survive. At least, I don't think he would."

"Then follow him," Lord Imakarum ordered calmly, cutting off contact from his end.

"Yes, Your Excellency," Razell said belatedly.

"All right; we're going to catch that little bastard, and we're going to drag him back to Chronos!" Delcasse growled as he pressed down on the accelerator and turned the truck around.

XxXxX

Sitting down on his dirtbike, sipping from the bottle of water he'd bought for himself, Ryan looked back to see how Sho was doing. He was eating the jerky that Ryan had bought for him, so that was a good sign.

_+How are you doing back there, Sho? I know that water, crackers, and jerky don't make for the best lunch, but it was really all I could get us here.+_

_+I really don't mind,+_ Sho said, as he took another bite of his jerky. _+It was nice of you to get them for me at all.+_

_+Hey, I was the one that dragged you out here in the first place. The least I could do while we're out here is get you some food.+_

_+I- I was really the one that rescued you, wasn't I?+_

_+I'm still not too clear on what happened back there,+ _Ryan said ruefully. _+So I really couldn't say.+_

_+Yeah,+ _Sho nodded. _+I can't really remember what happened then, either. I guess I was still kind of out of it.+_

_+I guess I was, too. I don't remember what happened during the time we made our breakout any better than you. I just remember being chased by those goons and then waking up next to you back in my home state.+_

_+That's- that's pretty much all I remember, too.+_

Looking back again, Ryan saw that Sho was pretty downcast, staring at the pavement like it alone had some sort of answer for what they were both going through right now. Ryan decided that, besides being time for them to leave for more practical reasons, getting back on the road would probably help Sho forget about what was getting to him.

_+Sho, we're going to get moving again. You might want to hold on.+_

_+What are we going to do now, Ryan? And, what are we going to do with the food?+_ Sho asked, even as he wrapped his arms around Ryan's waist and squeezed slightly.

_+I'll take care of that,+_ Ryan said, removing the remains of the jerky stick and the half-empty bottle of water and stuffing them into the bag he'd attached to the side of his dirtbike for situations like this.

Okay well, maybe not situations exactly like this, since no one in their right mind would ever be able to predict a situation exactly like this. Being chased by some nuts in a truck that were determined to turn the both of them into roadkill wasn't really something that the average person was mentally equipped to handle, let alone suspect. Ryan gave thanks again that he'd never quite been quite normal—it'd probably saved his ass.

Once the food and water had been fully stowed away, Ryan cranked up the engine of his dirtbike and roared off again. He had a more concrete destination in mind this time: his paternal uncle's cabin up in the hills was a good place to lose oneself, or anyone else that was trying to follow him. The road to get up there was steep and lined with hairpin turns that would be very bad news for the huge truck following him, at least if the goons inside ever managed to catch up to him again.

The only problem with that idea was that his uncle's cabin was pretty far outside the city, farther than he could get on just this one tank of gas. The food hadn't cost that much, so money wasn't so much of an issue at the moment, but if the way Sho was acting was any indication, then those Chronos guys weren't done with him yet. He was going to have to find a way to keep those guys off his back when he inevitably had to fill his gas tank again.

_+Where are we going, Ryan?+_

_+We're heading out to my uncle's cabin up in the hills,+ _Ryan said, steering in that direction. _+It's hard for most people to find, which why my old uncle chose it—he's not too fond of people outside of the family. Course, that means I'm going to have to convince him to let you stay with us until those goons give up looking for ya, but he likes me. It shouldn't be too difficult to get him on our side.+_

_+Thank you, Ryan. I hope I'm not being too much of a burden to you.+_

_+Nah,+ _Ryan said, shrugging off Sho's words as he continued to keep a lookout for any suspicious trucks. _+If you were whining and crying, then you'd be a burden. As it is, you're less annoying than most of the people I've met at school.+_

_+Oh.+_

Sho didn't really seem to have anything else to say about that, so Ryan turned his attention back to the road. Getting lost would just give those Chronos guys more of a chance to catch him, something that Ryan wasn't going to do. Turning his head to look for the exit that would lead him up the first leg of the trip. Spotting the first exit, Ryan turned to the right and took it.

_+How are you doing back there, Sho?+_

_+I'm fine, Ryan. Thanks for doing this for me.+_

_+Well, you're the one who knows more about these Chronos guys than I do. So it makes sense that I'd want to keep you with me. I guess that sounds a bit harsh of me, eh?+_

_+I can understand that,+_ Sho said, sounding a bit more subdued than Ryan had ever heard him.

_+It's not that I don't want you here, Sho. I just don't know you well enough to make any definite decisions about whether I like you or not, you know?+_

_+I guess that does make sense,+ _Sho said, sounding a bit less down about himself than he had originally.

The guy really didn't seem to have a high opinion of himself—either that, or he just wasn't so good with people. Whichever it was, though, Ryan really didn't have time to think about it. He needed to keep his mind on finding the next exit on the way to his uncle's cabin. The sound of revving truck motors prompted Ryan to take a look in his left-side mirror. Sure enough, there was a large, nondescript truck bearing down on him.

Checking his right side, Ryan swore creatively when he saw that there was indeed another truck coming up from that side. He was about to be boxed in, and then… Well, Ryan wasn't too clear about what was going to happen then, but judging from the way Sho had reacted to even the _idea_ of Chronos, he was fairly sure that it wasn't going to be anything good. One of Ryan's frequent – at least today – bursts of insane-genius-under-pressure made itself known then.

Keeping an eye on both trucks, switching his gaze from one mirror to the other, Ryan waited until the two trucks were right alongside him. Then he throttled down, dumping speed fast enough that the trucks overshot him by one-and-a-half car lengths. Laughing, Ryan turned his bike around and headed for the next exit. There were still a few roads between him and his uncle's cabin, so that meant that he was going to have to lose these chumps on the way there.

Still, with the way he knew these roads, it'd be pretty easy to lose the losers without getting himself lost.

When the road five feet in front of him exploded, Ryan had to turn extremely quickly to keep from running into the giant pothole that up until ten seconds ago had been a flat part of the road in front of him. Dealing with the trucks would be a hell of a lot easier than trying to drive across a pothole that stretched across the entire road. Driving head-on at the truck like he was setting up for some grossly unfair game of "Chicken" freaked out the driver enough that he didn't react nearly fast enough when Ryan turned slightly and blew by on his left side.

Of course, the move freaked Sho out pretty thoroughly, too.

_+I can't believe he fell for that a second time,+_ Ryan said, chuckling and trying to ease Sho's obvious tension.

The death-grip that Sho had around his waist was a pretty good indicator of just how freaked out the other boy was.

_+Ryan? Can we not do that again? Ever?+_

_+Can't say for sure. There might come a time when I need to use it to get us out of another tight spot. It's a hell of a lot better than letting them capture us, right?+_

_+I- I guess so.+_

_+You "guess" so? You mean you're not sure about it?+_

_+Ryan, I-+_

_+You want me to turn around and ask this guy for advice? I'm sure he'd have his fair share of ideas.+_

_+Ryan! No, don't!+_

_+I was kidding, Sho. You really need to lighten up some. You're way too tense.+_

Checking his mirrors, Ryan saw that both of the trucks had turned and were tailing him again. He really wished one of them had managed to crash into that big damn pothole in the road, but these guys were obviously not as stupid as your typical movie bad guys. There wasn't really any doubt in Ryan's mind that these were the Bad Guys, they were just really smart Bad Guys. That wasn't a very good thing, but it _would_ make it more fun to get away from them.

They wouldn't be expecting it, Ryan was sure.

When the road in front of him exploded again, a fair amount closer than it had been last time, Ryan nearly didn't make it out of the way in time. He had to work to rebalance his bike, though he did manage to right it with a bit of help from Sho. But now there wasn't really any place for him to go. Even the two trucks didn't have any way to get over those giant potholes, at least not without tipping over and crashing.

+Well, I'd say we're now officially fucked. That is, unless you've got some ideas on how to get us out of this fix. Got any, Sho?+

_+I'm sorry, Ryan, but I-+_

"Sho!"


	27. Working things out

The voice, which Ryan could only peg as belonging to some Japanese guy, sounded pretty excited. In fact, Ryan almost thought that the guy sounded happy to see Sho. Maybe the two of them had met before?

"Murakami-san?"

Sho had a definite accent, something that Ryan hadn't noticed before. Still, that probably had more to do with how they'd been communicating, since telepathy obviously didn't transmit accents. Looking over at the new guy, the one Sho seemed so happy to see, Ryan saw that he was dressed a bit strangely.

Or make that _really_ strangely: Ryan didn't know of any people who would willingly go walking around in a navy blue unitard, but when said unitard was combined with the weird-ass shiny gold armor and the black and red cape… well, then it stopped being just _weird_ and quickly crossed over into what-the-hell-is-this-guy-_on_ territory. Of course, he could be dressing that way just for the shock value, in which case the guy was owed at _least_ a handshake.

_+Sho?+_

Ryan watched as Sho climbed off his bike, which was – thankfully for him – stopped in the middle of the road. The guys in the trucks didn't seem to be interested in doing anything, which was pretty damn bizarre considering that they'd been trying to run him off the road for the better part of what felt like at least three hours. Ryan didn't much trust this new calm, and he wanted to know just who the hell this new player was in their little game. It seemed like Sho was really happy to see him, though.

Of course, that could be either a very good thing or a very bad thing. Time would tell which.

Listening as Sho and the new guy – Murakami or something like that – chatted back and forth in rapid Japanese, Ryan put his foot down on the kickstand of his bike and shoved it into place. This looked like it was going to take awhile, so Ryan decided to make himself comfortable and wait for something to happen.

Even as Sho came toward him, prattling on about some idiocy or other, Imakarum spared most of his attention for the red-haired boy on the small motorcycle. Imakarum knew that Sho would never have the will to attack him, so he concentrated instead on the unknown quantity within this scenario. Now there could be no doubt at all that Ryan Crouger had learned to use his Guyver.

It was the only way that the boy could have managed to escape with the Relic cocoon in the first place. Still, the fact that Sho had evidently joined forces with the newest Guyver that had come into being was somewhat troubling. With four Guyvers fighting against Chronos in various parts of the world, things were bound to get complicated for Lord Alkanphel. Still, the fact remained that Sho was a weak-willed, sentimental little fool.

There had to be a way to remove him as an obstacle, some way to make him and the problem he presented to Chronos' interests – those of Lord Alkanphel – go away.

"Sho," Imakarum began, interrupting another of the boy's inane stories—such weak, _human_ things no longer meant anything at all to Imakarum.

"What is it, Mr. Murakami?" Sho asked, and Imakarum had to resist the urge to slap the boy.

He was no longer that pathetic, useless, annoying fool Masaki Murakami, and he never would be again. Still, there might be some use to the identity, if only that it would convince Sho to trust him for the time it would take to discreetly dispose of both Guyvers. Perhaps he could throw their corpses into a river after he broke their necks.

"You seem to have made a new friend while I was away," Imakarum said, indicating young Ryan Crouger. "Would you mind introducing me to him?"

"Oh." Sho seemed a bit off-balance for a moment, but he quickly regained his mental footing. Naïve the boy may have been, but he was not particularly stupid. "That's Ryan Crouger. He's a Guyver, too. Would you like me to introduce you to him, Mr. Murakami?"

That name again. "I think I'd like that, Sho," Imakarum said, making an effort to sound as if he didn't already know about the newest threat to Chronos' plans.

"Okay," Sho said, his smile and the lack of suspicion in his demeanor letting Imakarum know that he'd carried off the illusion well enough. "I'll take you to meet him, Mr. Murakami."

Imakarum discreetly gritted his teeth; he _would_ deal with being called by that fool's name if it would get him close enough to Guyvers I and V to kill them both. Preferably quickly and with a minimum of fuss.

As he came closer to the waiting Fifth Guyver, Imakarum noticed that the boy seemed to be waiting for something. The way he looked to Sho first, before turning his gaze on Imakarum, let the Twelfth Zoalord know that this boy was taking his cues from Guyver I. That would make dealing with him much easier, since Sho Fukamachi, weak-willed child that he was, would never think to attack his old friend Masaki Murakami. It was an advantage that Imakarum was perfectly willing to make full use of.

"So," Imakarum said, once the Fifth Guyver's gaze had settled on him. "This is the newest Guyver to appear."

"Yes," Sho said, nodding. "His name is Ryan Crouger. He's the one who helped me escape from Chronos."

"You were held captive by Chronos? How did you escape?"

"I- I don't really know," Sho stammered, seeming more confused than scared. "I think it had something to do with the Guyvers and that strange cocoon. We were both inside it, and then we somehow ended up at Ryan's house."

"Is that all you remember?"

Sho nodded wordlessly, and Imakarum found himself wondering just how and why the Relic cocoon had responded to Sho and not to any of Lord Hamilcal's attempts to open it. Perhaps it was because Sho had been the only one who had been able to make contact with the Relic's main computer. Still, that didn't explain why Ryan had been absorbed into the cocoon the way Lord Hamilcal had reported.

Then again, perhaps it explained things better than Imakarum had at first thought: it was very possible that Sho's fine mental control over the Relic had carried over to control of the cocoon as well. It made a fair amount of sense that Sho would be able to order the cocoon to absorb Ryan somehow. Of course, that still left the question of just how Sho and Ryan had escaped from the Dead Sea Plant.

That was when Imakarum noticed that he was now standing over Ryan Crouger, the newest threat to Chronos' plans. The boy looked a bit younger than he'd been expecting, younger than Sho even, but that would have made Imakarum think that Ryan Crouger would be easier to manipulate. It _would have_, at least, if Imakarum had not seen the boy's eyes.

Ryan Crouger's green eyes had a shrewd look to them, sizing Imakarum up and trying to decide if he was a threat or not. This boy was not as naïve as Sho—that much was obvious from the wariness in his manner when he was confronting Imakarum. He would have to work a bit to gain the boy's trust.

"So, you were the one who bonded with the new Guyver. I'd heard rumors about you. It's interesting to finally meet you."

"Oh, good. _You_ actually speak English," the boy said, looking relieved. "I was starting to worry that I'd only be able to communicate through him."

"You can speak with Sho?" Imakarum asked, mildly surprised. "How?"

"He and I have some sort of wacky mental connection." The boy made a face, his expression somewhere between confused and annoyed. "I think it's telepathy, which is extremely weird since the only people I know of who have telepathic powers are the guys I read about in comic books. And few enough of them, too."

"This must be very strange for you," Imakarum said, settling into the gently paternal demeanor that he used when addressing his son.

It would make it all the easier to persuade this boy to come with him, somewhere they would not be interrupted—somewhere that a pair of corpses could be hidden with a minimum of fuss and little chance of discovery.

"Weird and strange don't even begin to cover it," the boy laughed, obviously trying to cover his uneasiness. "I think we're firmly off the map of weirdness by now."

"Perhaps we could discuss this in more appropriate surroundings," Imakarum said, looking around at the street where they were all standing with the air of someone who wanted to leave. It would, of course, be a great deal easier to dispose of the two Guyvers in a secured Chronos installation. "This street isn't exactly private."

"I think you're right, Mr. Murakami."

Turning to smile at Sho for a brief moment, Imakarum turned back to Ryan. He seemed willing to follow where Sho led, at least for the moment. The younger boy followed along docilely for perhaps half a minute.

"Hold on a sec—I have to take care of my bike."

Imakarum, having little enough patience with humans in general and Guyvers in particular, turned to the boy and wordlessly wrapped his arm around his shoulders. The bones felt more fragile for the fact that they were closer to the surface, and it would be so very easy for Imakarum to simply keep squeezing until he had crushed everything – every organ and blood vessel – within the young Guyver's upper torso. Such an action on his part would endanger his relationship with Sho to an unacceptable degree, though, and so Imakarum restrained himself. There would be ample time to deal with the Guyvers I and V; Imakarum would personally make certain of that.

"Hey, lay off. I'm just trying to get my bike back."

"There is no need for you to worry about that," Imakarum said, his temper starting to fray from the Guyver boy's insistence.

"The hell there isn't!" Guyver V shouted, roughly pulling himself free of Imakarum's grip. "I've worked on that bike a long time; I ain't just leaving it out here for people to steal when I'm not looking."

The boy paused for a moment, then turned to glare briefly at Sho. His demeanor suggested that the two of them were speaking with one another, so this must have been a demonstration of that Guyver-induced telepathy Ryan had spoke briefly about. If all Guyvers had this connection, then it would make disposing of them somewhat more difficult. Imakarum didn't particularly feel like dealing with Agito Makashima at the moment.


	28. Taking the load

"I insist that you come with us," Imakarum said, stepping forward to wrap his arm back around the young Guyver's body and then subtly tightening his grip on the boy's shoulders. "Sho," he said, switching effortlessly back into his native Japanese, "have you used this telepathic power of yours to contact Agito in the past?"

"Yes," Sho said, nodding as Imakarum cursed inwardly. "It's what we used to coordinate our attacks on those large Chronos bases, back before…" he looked mildly uncomfortable. "Everything happened."

_Problems on top of other problems,_ Imakarum mused, concealing his irritation with long practice. Dealing with Atkins was less taxing than this. Of course, all of their latest exchanges had happened over the phone. There was no need for Imakarum to worry over what his face displayed when he was speaking to someone who couldn't see him. He only had to make sure his tone of voice and choice of words didn't hint at what he was now.

Noticing that Ryan Crouger was no longer with them and wondering for a moment just how the Fifth Guyver had managed to slip out of his hold when he had been sure that he had a very tight grip on the boy, Imakarum saw that he was heading for the miniature motorcycle-esque vehicle that he had ridden to escape from the Zoanoids that had been sent after him. Incensed, Imakarum fired a Gravity Bullet at his back. Stealth be damned; that brat would die for defying him.

The fact that the boy managed to dodge was annoying, but the fact that the Gravity Bullet he'd fired ended up hitting the very thing that the young Guyver had been interested in at the outset was something of a consolation. There was now no reason for young Ryan Crouger to want to leave. For a few moments, the boy who was the Fifth Guyver – though not for much longer if Imakarum had any say in the matter – stood staring at the wreckage of what had once been his vehicle.

His fists were clenched, and his posture radiated rage; Imakarum could not have cared less. There was nothing that a mere human could do to harm a Zoalord, and if the boy had learned to utilize the power of his Guyver Unit, he would not have been trying to flee from Chronos' forces on such a flimsy vehicle in the first place.

When the young Guyver turned to look at him once again, his expression a mask of determined anger, Imakarum offered him a tight smile. The boy was weak, and Sho would never attack his _old friend_ Murakami; there was nothing that he could do. Ryan Crouger was helpless. That was what made it so very amusing to watch the boy as he stalked back toward their little group.

"So, are you prepared to come along quietly now?" he asked.

XxXxX

When Mr. Murakami had fired that strange blast – something that almost looked like the Guyver's Pressure Cannon – at Ryan's back, Sho hadn't known what to do. He was glad that Ryan had managed to dodge, but seeing his dirtbike get blown up – blown up by Mr. Murakami and _why had he even done that?_ – had obviously made him very angry. It hadn't sounded very much like an apology, what Mr. Murakami had said to Ryan, and the look on Ryan's face was still one of anger.

What was going on? Why had Mr. Murakami tried to attack Ryan the way he had?

When Ryan punched Mr. Murakami, first in… a particularly sensitive area that made Sho wince in sympathy, and again under the chin when Mr. Murakami doubled over in pain, Sho was torn between rushing to help Mr. Murakami and helping Ryan. Mr. Murakami was his friend, but Ryan was a fellow Guyver, and he'd helped them both to escape from the Zoanoids that had been pursuing them.

_+What the flying fuck?!+_

_+Ryan? What's going on?+_

_+Hey, you know this guy, right?+_

_+Mr. Murakami is a friend of mine. Why did-+_

_+You could have at least told me your friend's got intensely freaky eyes, you know.+_

_+What?+_

_+His eyes—they look like some mondo bizarro cross between a cat's and a person's. Like, if you took a pair of yellow cat eyes and stuck them into the whites of a human eye and—why the hell am I even telling you this? You've seen him without that visor of his, right?+_

_+Well, I…+_

Now that he thought about it, Sho realized that Mr. Murakami had never worn a visor like that. Even back when he'd been wearing those green sunglasses, he'd still taken them off. And Mr. Murakami's eyes had looked just like every other pair of dark eyes that Sho had seen in his life.

_+Ryan, are you sure that's what you saw?+_

_+Uh, yeah! What, you don't believe me? You're welcome to come and take a look for yourself, buddy-boy. In fact, I think you should either try to talk your old pal here down, or get your butt in gear and help me!+_

Turning to look from Mr. Murakami to Ryan, Sho watched in shock and growing horror as Mr. Murakami – the one who had helped him and Agito in their early battles against Chronos and taught them what it took to fight against them – fired another of those strange blasts at Ryan's feet. Ryan managed to leap out of the way, thank God, but the fact that Mr. Murakami had even attacked him in the first place was terrifying to Sho.

What had happened to Mr. Murakami that he would do this?!

_+Sho, when I asked for your help, I kinda meant today!+_

Ryan was still up and dodging the blasts that Mr. Murakami was firing at him, but then the doors of the trucks – the trucks that Sho had almost forgotten were even there in the first place – burst open as a small army of Zoanoids flooded out onto the roadway. As the mass of Zoanoids started to gather around Mr. Murakami, Sho got the feeling that things were still not right. The Zoanoids didn't seem to be ready to attack Mr. Murakami the way they always seemed to do; in fact, if Sho didn't know better, he'd almost say that these Zoanoids were looking to Mr. Murakami for orders.

But that couldn't be true; Mr. Murakami was an enemy of Chronos. He had been helping them to fight against the Zoanoids ever since they had first met.

But all of the Zoanoids were gathering around Mr. Murakami, and they weren't moving in to attack him. It even sounded like one of them was asking him for orders, but that was even more impossible. But then, that seemed to be just what was happening: Mr. Murakami pointed at Ryan, his manner suggesting that he was even glaring at Ryan, and said something in English that Sho didn't understand.

The fact that all of the Zoanoids leapt at Ryan while Mr. Murakami stood back and watched—_watched_, with a disturbingly gleeful expression on his face – made Sho wonder what on earth had happened to Mr. Murakami. Whatever it was, he was beginning to doubt it was anything good.

"Mr. Murakami!" Sho ran at the laughing—Why was he _laughing_?! – form of his old friend. "Mr. Murakami, what are you _doing_?!"

Even running as fast as he could – in human form, at least – Sho could still see Mr. Murakami turning to face him. Mr. Murakami still had that disturbing smile on his face, and then he fired another of those strange Pressure Cannon-like blasts. This time, Sho could see that the blast was aimed at _him_. More than that, he could see what Ryan had been talking about: Mr. Murakami's eyes _were_ bright yellow, but from the distance he was at, Sho couldn't see if the pupils really were catlike the way Ryan had said.

"Mr. Murakami!? What are you doing?!"

"That should be obvious, Sho," Mr. Murakami said, grinning in a very unnerving way. "Die!"

A volley of those strange blasts ripped into the place where Sho had been standing just half a minute ago, and he covered his face with his arms to shield himself from the flying debris that had once been part of the street.

"Mr. Murakami, please stop!"

"Never!"

This time, Sho could see Mr. Murakami's Incision Wave – the same one that he had used to kill those Enzyme IIs in the forest according to Tetsuro – heading straight for his torso. Diving to the ground, knowing that that attack would split him in half if it connected, Sho looked up at the strangely dressed form of his old friend. _Come to think of it, Mr. Murakami's never worn anything like this before. And… he seems stronger than before…_

A flash of strong emotion – annoyance mixed with a healthy amount of fear – came through to him over the link he shared with Ryan, and Sho turned. Seeing Ryan go down, buried beneath a veritable pile of rushing Zoanoids, Sho felt his heart seize up for a moment. While it was true that he hadn't known Ryan for very long at all, the other boy was still a fellow Guyver, and to see him die like that…

But then there came an explosion from the center of the group of Zoanoids that had enveloped Ryan—a kind of explosion that Sho was very familiar with. It was the same kind of explosion that he had been witness to – and at the epicenter of – more times than he could remember. When the dead Zoanoids had all collapsed to the ground, Sho saw Ryan's Guyver form for the very first time.

It wasn't really all that much different from his own, but the coloring made it seem so—that and the strange armored collar. Ryan's Guyver was a smoky gray, the coiled tendrils between the plates giving an interesting contrast with their bright red-orange color. In fact, with its combination of colors, Ryan's Guyver armor almost gave the impression of being a paler version of Agito's. All except for the head—that looked more like his than any other Guyver Sho had seen.


	29. Weakness and Willpower

When the armor had finished forming around him, something that Ryan was almost certain he'd experienced before – must've been something to do with Sho – Ryan got his first real look at the virtual army of monstered-out goons that was currently surrounding him. They all looked like they wanted nothing more than to pound the living crap out of him—at least, the ones who weren't busy looking like blown up roadkill did.

It _was_ pretty freaky, the way all of the dead ones were rotting so fast, and Ryan took a moment to be grateful that he couldn't smell them. That must have been one nasty smell; he'd heard enough from his mom to know that the smell of rotting flesh wasn't one that any normal person would enjoy. Of course, none of the things he was facing now could ever really be considered normal. Ryan didn't even think they qualified as people anymore, not after what they had just _done._

_+So, Sho, what's the story with these beast-man guys?+_

_+They're called Zoanoids,+ _Sho said, sounding like he had lost something very important to him.

_+You mean these are the things that were chasing us?+_

_+Yes.+_

_+Good to know,+ _Ryan said. _+Now, just how are we supposed to beat them? And why do you sound like someone just ran over your dog?+_

_+You- you can use the Guyver's weapons to kill them; the Control Medal will tell you what to do.+_

_+And what about the other thing, eh, Sho?+_

_+What do you mean?+_

_+Why do you look like you've just lost your best friend?+_

_+Maybe because I just have.+_

If Sho had been speaking out loud, Ryan might have been tempted to call what he was doing whispering. It wasn't like it was any "quieter" than normal – and how far gone was he that he was starting to think about this kind of stuff as _normal_? – but there was certainly something about it that suggested Sho was whispering. Maybe it was the tone, insofar as something that could only be heard inside a person's head could have a tone at all.

Ducking under the arms of the Zoanoids as they took a swipe at him and still wondering what Sho had meant by what he had said earlier, Ryan suddenly got a very strong visual impression of both his upper arms and the tops of his wrists. When he looked at his right wrist, Ryan saw a noticeable lump there—a pointy lump, like something was there just waiting for him to notice it and use it.

With a thought, Ryan extended the lump, watching as it elongated from a barely-there thing of about an inch high to a blade that was six inches long and shimmered softly in the light. Ryan even thought he could hear it humming but decided that he was probably imagining that. Whatever the case, this new weapon of his was pretty cool. _Looks like I've got a matched set, though._

With a little mental urging, Ryan managed to do the same with the blade on his left wrist. The Zoanoids gave him a teensy bit more breathing room once he had managed to figure out how to use his new wrist-blades, but the guy in the center – Sho's "old friend," though Ryan was really starting to doubt his fellow Guyver's sanity if he'd make friends with someone like _that_ – seemed to be prodding them into attacking again.

It was getting pretty damned annoying.

_+Sho, if you're done agonizing over things you're not telling me about, do you think you could get your butt in gear?!+_

_+I'm- I'm sorry, Ryan. It's just…+_

_+Yeah, well, whatever it is, get over it! I'm not sure how much longer I can hold these guys off!+_

_+I'm coming,+ _Sho seemed to whisper again.

Ryan didn't quite know what was going on with Sho, though he was starting to suspect a few things, but now _really_ wasn't the time to be conducting any impromptu therapy sessions. Not in the middle of the street, and sure as hell not when they were being assaulted by an army of freakish monsters. There would be time for Sho to get his head on straight later; for now, it was more important that they didn't get killed. Being dead would be a real impediment to talking things over, after all.

When another Guyver—a blue one with twisty purple stuff between the plates of its armor—came charging into the thick of the group of Zoanoids that was trying to beat him down, Ryan was particularly grateful to have him there.

_+Well, I see you've gotten over whatever it was that was bothering you,+ _Ryan greeted cordially. _+Good to have you here.+_

_+Thanks, Ryan. But I really haven't gotten over it. You're right; for now we need to focus on getting out of this situation. I'll worry about Mr. Murakami later.+_

_+Good. You do that.+_

Plunging his wrist-blade into a bug-looking Zoanoid's head, Ryan ripped it out and kicked the next-closest Zoanoid in the chest.

_+Yo, Sho?+_

_+What is it, Ryan?+_

_+Are there any other weapons on this Guyver thing that I should know about? Like something that could clear some more of these Zoanoids out of our way? Maybe a lot of them at once?+_

_+Maybe the Mega-Smasher—no, that would do too much damage to the city. I think you'd want to use the Pressure Cannon here.+_

_+Great. What the heck is that, anyway?+_

_+Sorry. I guess I keep forgetting that you're new to all of this. You'll want to focus on your Gravity Controller—that's part of the system that activates the Pressure Cannon.+_

_+Thanks for the advice, Sho.+ Now, let's hope I listened well enough to keep my skin intact.+_

Focusing on the Gravity Controller the way Sho had told him to, Ryan felt something humming at his waist. It was probably that Gravity Controller thing that Sho had talked about, but the feeling of something buzzing between his hands wasn't exactly what Ryan had been expecting. That was probably the Pressure Cannon; looking down at his hands, Ryan saw something forming between them.

It was some weird kind of air distortion that looked like a small black hole. Or at least what Ryan thought a black hole would look from his astronomy studies. Once the thing had fully formed, Ryan slammed it into the head of the nearby lizardlike Zoanoid and watched gleefully as the thing's head exploded.

_+That was pretty fun.+_

_+Just try to concentrate on what you're doing, Ryan.+_

_+Right. I'll keep that in mind.+_

Gathering up another mini black hole, Ryan fired it at another Zoanoid. Then, extending his wrist-blades again, Ryan dove into the midst of the attacking Zoanoids.


	30. Progress Report

Pressing his hands against the processing-tank in front of him, Kenji peered into the fluid inside. The first of his Alvix Zoanoids—Dad or one of the other Zoalords would have called it a prototype, and that's what all of the doctors were calling it, too – was waiting for him inside the tank. It wasn't quite ready yet, as it hadn't even grown fur, and the teeth and claws hadn't formed.

The doctors had told him that it would be at least ten more hours before his Alvix prototype was ready to leave the processing-tank. Kenji wasn't really sure that he could wait that long, or that Mr. Fried'rich would be able to keep Dad distracted while the doctors were finishing his Alvix up. Hearing the door to the private lab Mr. Fried'rich had set him up in starting to open, Kenji hurried over to it before the person on the other side could come in. It would be okay if it were just another doctor coming in to help, but he really didn't want Dad to see his Alvix before it was finished. That would ruin the whole surprise!

"Mr. Fried'rich! What are you doing in here?!" Kenji asked, grabbing hold of his arm and pulling him into the lab. "Dad could have been following you!" Poking his head out into the halls of Cloud Tower, Kenji looked around, just to be sure that Mr. Fried'rich hadn't accidentally led Dad into the lab.

"I am quite certain that your father has not followed me here, little one," Mr. Fried'rich said, chuckling as he patted Kenji's head.

Kenji didn't really see what was so funny. "But he_ could _have been."

"Kenji, my last communication with him indicated that your father is currently inspecting the operations of the research outpost in Antarctica. He will not return here for quite some time, unless he is called back by some emergency," Mr. Fried'rich said, looking serious.

Kenji felt a little silly for getting so worried after Mr. Fried'rich told him that. "Well, okay. What are you doing here, though?"

"I was interested in the development of your new Zoanoid model," Mr. Fried'rich said, patting Kenji's head in passing as he stepped past him. "This would be it, would it not?"

"Uh-huh," Kenji said, nodding eagerly. He really wanted to find out what Mr. Fried'rich thought about his Alvix. "Do you like it?"

"It _is_ a rather inspired design for one as young as yourself," Mr. Fried'rich said, walking over to the tank and peering inside.

"That means you like it, right?" Kenji asked again.

"Yes, that it does," Mr. Fried'rich said, turning to smile at him.

Kenji smiled back. "I'm glad you like it. I worked real hard."

"Yes," Mr. Fried'rich said, looking at his Alvix where it still floated in the processing-tank. "Your diligence and study in this area is rather self-evident."

Kenji wasn't really sure what that meant, but it sounded like a compliment. "Thanks!" Kenji said, smiling wider.

"You are quite welcome, little one," Mr. Fried'rich said, patting Kenji's head again. "I must admit, I look forward to seeing this new model of yours tested in combat. I am going to consult with the scientists now; would you like to stay and listen?"

"No," Kenji shook his head. "That's boring. I'm going to go get some food now, okay, Mr. Fried'rich?"

"Very well," Mr. Fried'rich said, nodding with a slight smile on his face. "I will send a couple Hyper Zoanoids to keep an eye on you."

"Okay. Bye, Mr. Fried'rich!"

"Goodbye, Kenji. Enjoy your meal."

"I will!" Kenji called back over his shoulder as he left.

XxXxX

Once Imakarum's son had left the laboratory, the two Hyper Zoanoids that had been assigned to him trailing behind, Fried'rich turned to the overseers that he had assigned to work under the boy.

"This 'Alvix' model of his _is_ a viable Zoanoid form, is it not?" Fried'rich asked. "I would hate for the child to be disappointed in his first creation."

"I've checked over all of his work, just like you asked me to, sir," Dr. Berenson said. "The design is a simple one, almost akin to the Ramochis model in that respect. Though the wolf-base that the… child decided to use is rather more distantly related than the ape-base of the Ramochis model. It will still be an easily reproducible Zoanoid type."

"That is good," Fried'rich said, nodding in satisfaction. It would mean a great deal to Kenji when he found out that his Alvix model was indeed viable and hence could be mass-produced for use in Chronos. Of course, the next step was to select a group of candidates to be processed into this new type of Zoanoid.

The Alvix model would need to be tested, both to determine whether it was a worthwhile addition to the ranks of Chronos' Standard Zoanoids, as well as just what kind of missions the model would be best suited for. Though, judging by the form that was starting to develop in the processing-tank, Fried'rich was inclined to believe that these new Zoanoids would be suited best for forest and jungle operations.

The Alvix certainly did resemble the Chaltu, Maldu, and Heffex Zoanoid types, types that had been designed to operate in jungles and thickly forested terrain. It _would _most likely be assigned the same types of missions as those Zoanoids once the model was fully integrated into Chronos' ranks.

Kenji would want to be notified of this, of course. Contacting the Hyper Zoanoids that he had sent to look after the boy, Fried'rich found that Kenji had finished eating and was just preparing to leave the cafeteria.

_-Wait, Noskov. Keep Kenji with you; I wish to speak with him.-_

Once Noskov had acknowledged his request and agreed to it, Fried'rich bid his farewell to the Hyper Zoanoid and started making his own way to the cafeteria. Kenji would be wanting to leave now, in spite of the fact that Noskov had asked him to wait. He was still young yet, and so did not understand the value of patience. Imakarum was gone at the moment, so it fell to him to take care of the boy. Kenji would have to learn those values if he was ever to function as an adult, and Fried'rich was going to see that he did, even without Imakarum's input.

Once he had reached the eating area, he found that Kenji was just leaving. That was odd, since Fried'rich knew that he had in fact assigned Noskov to make certain that the boy would stay and wait for him.

_-Noskov? Has something gone wrong? Why are you not at Kenji's table? And why is he leaving?-_

_I apologize, Your Excellency. When the kid told me that he was bored and wanted to leave, I… I just couldn't help myself._

_-You let him go.-_

_I'm sorry, sir._

_-I suppose it is understandable, given the circumstances,-_ Fried'rich said calmly.

Kenji was, after all, a Zoalord himself. It would make sense that he could command Zoanoids, even if it was only on a subconscious level. When a Zoalord stated his desire to leave so plainly, even one of the more advanced Zoanoids like a Hyper would not be able to resist him, and Kenji, for all his youth and inexperience with his powers, was still a Zoalord.

Fried'rich strode calmly through the ranks of seated Zoanoids, following the psychic trail of Chronos' youngest Zoalord. Once he had caught sight of Kenji's retreating back, Fried'rich called out to him.

_-Kenji, wait a moment.-_

_-Mr. Fried'rich?- _Kenji asked, turning to look back at him. "What are you doing here? Did you want to talk to me?"

"Yes, Kenji, I did," Fried'rich said, laying a hand on the boy's shoulder. "It's about your Zoanoid model."

"My Alvix?" he asked, looking mildly distraught. "What about it? Did something happen? Has- has something gone wrong? My Alvix didn't turn into a Lost Number, did it?"

"Calm down, child," Fried'rich said, gently placing his hand over Kenji's mouth to silence him and stop him from worrying so much. Kenji blinked in mute surprise at the action. "Nothing has happened to your Zoanoid. I came to inform you that your Alvix is ready to go into mass production. The candidate selection is to begin in one week, once the modifications have been finished. I am certain that your father will be pleased with your efforts."

His piece said, Fried'rich removed his hand from Kenji's mouth to see what the young Zoalord would say to that, if he said anything at all.

"You mean my Alvix is really going to be one of the Zoanoids that they use around here?" Kenji asked, having evidently forgotten all about his earlier worry. Such was the way of children.

"Yes," Fried'rich said, nodding to put the young one at ease. "It will. After all of the testing has been completed, your Alvix will join the ranks of the Ramochis, Gregole, and Chaltu model Zoanoids."

"That's great!" Kenji exclaimed happily, impulsively embracing Fried'rich. "Dad's going to be so happy when he finds out! But you won't tell him yet, will you, Mr. Fried'rich?"

"Of course not," Fried'rich said. "You seemed to be interested in going somewhere before we spoke, Kenji. Where was it?"

"Oh," Kenji blinked, looking mildly confused for a moment. "I was just going back to Dad's room to lie down. I always do that after I eat."

"I suppose that makes a fair amount of sense. Would you like me to wake you when your Alvix has completed processing?"

"Would you really do that for me, Mr. Fried'rich?"

"I would," Fried'rich said calmly.

"Thanks!" the young Zoalord exclaimed, briefly embracing him again. "I'm gonna go lay down now, Mr. Fried'rich."

As Kenji made for his father's room, Fried'rich wondered when Imakarum would return to Cloud Tower and just how long Kenji would want to keep his accomplishments secret from him. Kenji was always eager to have his father's approval; he just wondered how the boy would manage to balance that desire with his expressed wish to keep his Zoanoid model a secret from Imakarum until it had been finalized.


	31. Warring Faction

Diving out of the way of another barrage of those weird blasts, Ryan decided that it was time to go after the guy who was shooting at him—the same guy whom Sho had once insisted was his friend, though he seemed to have either changed his mind or decided to think about whatever it was that was bothering him later. There were a lot of bug-people in the air around them, so Sho had flown off to deal with them. There were also some bat-guys along for the chase; he'd taken a few of them down himself, but it was mostly Sho dealing with them.

Of course, now that he was going to pick a fight with the guy who'd started all the shit they were in, the bats and the bugs were probably going to start going after _him_ now. _Well, nothing for it, I guess. Time to bust some more heads._ Diving out of the sky, Ryan had to swerve quite a few times to keep from getting pulverized by those blasts that Sho's old buddy was slinging. He'd seen what they could do to concrete and asphalt, and he had no desire to find out if the Guyver he was wearing was tougher than those.

Landing on the balls of his feet, Ryan rushed the armored nutjob currently firing at Sho. Of course, this drew said armored nutjob's attention directly to him, but there was really no way to avoid that. Besides, it took his focus off Sho, and that was generally a good thing, or so Ryan hoped.

"Hey, Sir-blast-a-lot!" Ryan challenged, firing one of his own blasts at the guy's head. "You got a beef, take it up with me!"

The nutjob didn't answer—at least, not verbally, anyway. He _did_ fire another barrage of those weirdly similar-looking blasts at him, and then another one after that. None of them connected, though; Ryan made sure of that.

"Is _that_ the best you can do?!"

"Well, if you want something _different_-!"

Armored Boy made a motion that suggested he was karate-chopping the air, and Ryan would have laughed at him except for one thing. One large thing. One large, green, glowing, crescent-shaped thing that was _heading right at him_!

Ryan didn't know exactly what it would do if it hit him, but he was in no hurry to find out. That thing was obviously not of the good.

"Nice moon-shot," Ryan laughed after he'd managed to get the hell out of the way. "Looks like you missed, though."

"I might have missed _you_," he said, grinning in that not entirely sane way that really put Ryan on edge.

"Wha-?"

Turning to look over his shoulder, Ryan found that the blast was still traveling. And now it was heading straight for Sho. _Fuck._ Even as he made a beeline for Sho, who was still fighting the flying bat-and-bug squad, Ryan suspected that he wouldn't make it to Sho in time to shove him out of the way.

_+Sho, move it! You're right in the way of some- I don't know what the hell it is, but it's coming at you, and I don't think it's a good thing! Get out of there!+_

Ryan saw Sho turn his head slightly, then dart out of the way of the incoming blast. It was a good thing he did, too, since the next thing Ryan saw was that selfsame blast carving through the bat and bug guys like a knife through warm butter. One of them had been sliced completely in half; the two pieces were rotting even as they fell through the air.

Ryan really doubted they'd be anything more than a liquid by the time they hit the ground; or rather splattered all over it. But his problem was in front of him, and it really needed dealing with, so Ryan turned back to armored-boy.

"Murakami-san!" Sho shouted, and then started babbling something in Japanese that Ryan didn't catch.

And then the armored wacko answered in kind. He was still laughing, something that Ryan had learned to associate with things that were not of the good.

_+Are you ever going to tell me what you two are talking about, or am I just going to have to keep guessing?+ _Ryan asked, starting to get annoyed. _+Why the hell are you talking to him anyway? He's the one trying to kill us, moron!+_

_+Ryan, I-+_

_+Well, what is it? What's going on with you, anyway?+_

_+Mr. Murakami was my friend, and I just- I want-+_

_+Yeah? You want what?+_

_+I want to know why.+_

_+Fair enough,+_ Ryan said. _+Still, when you're fighting, it's not a good time to think about things like that.+_

_+I know. But I- I just- I don't think I can-+_

_+No worries, Sho. I'll take on the big guy if you can't.+_

_+Thank you, Ryan.+_

Just before he turned away to deal with the armored nutjob the way he'd promised Sho he would, Ryan looked back over his shoulder to see what Sho was going to do. As it turned out, Sho was getting back to fighting the bats and the bugs. There were only a few of them left, so that was good. That meant that there was a better than average chance that the two of them would be able to get the hell out of here soon, and that was a very good thing as far as Ryan was concerned.

Of course, before they could do any getting the hell out of anywhere, he'd have to deal with the irate, trigger-happy whackjob who had – presumably – started this whole thing. And that meant that he was going to have to think up some new moves; this guy seemed like he could shrug off most of what Ryan could throw at him. _Most_, because Ryan was getting some impressions from his Guyver again—impressions that suggested that this armor of his had something else up its proverbial sleeve.

"Are you the one who's going to fight me now?" he asked, still grinning and looking like he was sizing up a juicy cut of steak. Ryan wasn't too fond of the comparison. "Pity. I would have thought Sho would have at least _tried_ to meet me head-on. We are old friends, after all."

"You're trying to _kill_ him, you demented, obsessive-compulsive, sociopathic loony," Ryan drawled. "I think he'd want to stay as far away from you as he possibly could; I know I would. And don't try to feed me that bullshit about you guys being friends, cause there's no way in hell that I'm going to buy that line. _Old friends_ wouldn't be trying to murder each other."

"Well, it seems that you have quite a few things figured out," Jonny Dementiod said, again flashing that crazed grin at him. "Do you think that any of it will help you survive?"

"Anything's possible," Ryan said calmly, wondering where this conversation was going.

This guy didn't really seem like the type to be so chatty with someone who he was trying to kill. Then again, he didn't really seem all that stable either, so maybe this was just his way of blowing off steam before he started blowing off limbs. In that case, he was perfectly welcome to go fuck himself with the nearest jagged, pointy, and/or obscenely huge object.

"Indeed," the psychopath said, still grinning like a demented death's head.

"What's your name, anyway?" Ryan asked, both because he was genuinely curious and he wanted the nutball to _stop grinning_ already. "I can't just keep calling you 'hey you' while I'm beating the ever-loving crap out of you, you know?"

"My name – though ordinarily I would say that it is none of your business, Guyver – is Imakarum Mirabilis."

"Huh," Ryan scoffed. "I could have _sworn_ Sho told me your name was Murakami. What happened? Freak misspelling accident?"

"Masaki Murakami is _dead_, and Sho is a sentimental, weak-willed little fool," crazy-guy – or Imakarum, though Ryan doubted he was ever going to actually _call_ him that; he was just really fun to bait – growled, seeming pretty well pissed off.

"Wow, I gotta tell you I never really took you for a zombie," Ryan said, chuckling at the look on Imakarum's face.

The Crescent Moon of Death aimed at his head let Ryan know that he'd pissed the guy off on an epic scale. Definitely not of the good.

Taking a couple seconds to make sure that Sho wasn't behind him again, Ryan dodged and then lunged in quick succession. Imakarum the Loony was caught off-guard, happily enough, and Ryan was able to slam his fist into the guy's face. Of course, he ended up getting thrown into the ground for his trouble, but it was really fun in spite of that.

_+Ryan! Are you all right?+_

_+Yeah, Sho, I'm fine. I'm just a little grounded at the moment.+_

Leaping backwards just as the Mother of all Lasers slammed into the crater where he'd been standing, Ryan flew back into the air to confront Imakarum again.

"So I see you managed to survive again," Imakarum growled.

"You didn't think you could get rid of me _that _easily, did you?" Ryan laughed—the pissy look on Imakarum's face was just too funny.

"One could hope," he spat.

Before Ryan could start attacking again, or tell Captain Crazy just where he could stick his hope, Imakarum dove forward. Bending at the waist like he was in a limbo contest, Ryan managed to just avoid the punch that the crazy flying guy had aimed at him. Ryan had a feeling that this fight he'd just stepped into wasn't going to be over quickly.

_Well, ain't that just fucking great._


	32. Discoveries

Imakarum was annoyed; actually, he had long since passed annoyance and was quickly overtaking rage. This was not how he had planned for things to happen—he'd not been expecting to fight a Guyver who could challenge him on his own terms. He had already known that Sho could not have hoped to do such a thing, not with his memories of Masaki Murakami still so strong and immediate. He had certainly never been expecting the Fifth Guyver to adapt so quickly to his new situation and come to the aid of someone he had only met on that selfsame day. And yet this boy, this Ryan Crouger, had done just that. It was aggravating in the extreme.

And that was why he was going to rip the Control Medal from the brat's skull and give it to Lord Hamilcal for study. And more than that, he was going to do it _quickly_. Kenji would doubtless be missing him by now, and he was also eager to spend some time with his son. There was only the matter of dealing with this irksome little Guyver.

Sensing another impending attack, Imakarum swerved, directly into the path of the sole of Ryan's foot. The little brat was more cunning than he had first expected. Spitting out a mouthful of blood, along with the remains of two chipped teeth, Imakarum knocked aside the child's fist, then grabbed Ryan's head. Transforming into his larger battleform, Imakarum closed his right hand around the little Guyver boy's skull and squeezed.

"I'll split your skull open and pluck out the Control Medal, brat!"

Gritting his teeth in a fierce grin, Imakarum squeezed the Guyver boy's head and listened to him scream. It was a _very_ satisfying sound. The little pest kicked and struggled, but he was of course completely unable to overcome the strength of a full Zoalord.

It was only to be expected: the boy had not been using his Guyver for even half a day. He could not hope to match any but the weakest or the stupidest Zoanoids. The ones he had killed were a prime example, as they were all merely Standard Zoanoids.

A sudden pain in his wrist, just above where he had the little brat's head in his hand, almost caused Imakarum to release his grip. Noticing that one of the Guyver's Vibration Blades – and just how the hell had that little bastard contrived to have blades on his wrists?! – was fully extended and jammed into the joint of his right wrist, Imakarum hissed in pain. As his hand started to go numb from loss of blood, Imakarum forced it to open with the last amount of control that he had over it.

Then, grabbing the brat's armored collar with his still functional left hand, Imakarum threw him at the approaching Guyver I. Unable to stabilize in time, Guyver V slammed into Guyver I with all the force that Imakarum had imparted to him. The blood that had been dripping from Guyver V's blade – _his blood_, Imakarum thought with an irritated snarl – was soon joined by that of his comrade in arms.

Laughing, Imakarum watched for a moment as Guyvers I and V attempted to disentangle themselves. Guyver V pulled his right Vibration Blade out of the base of Guyver I's shoulder with a wet, sucking, popping sound. That certainly made the situation a great deal more amusing. Firing another volley of Gravity Bullets at the two Guyvers, Imakarum watched in mild annoyance as Guyver V dodged them again.

That annoyance was lessened by the fact that Sho did _not_ manage to dodge. Guyver I took most of his Gravity Bullets in the left flank, leaving him injured and bleeding all over the roadway beneath them.

"Mr. Murakami! Please, don't do this! I don't-"

"You seem to be forgetting, Sho," Imakarum hissed, grinning at the anguish he could hear in the Japanese Guyver's voice. "I'm not that fool Murakami anymore!"

Firing two more Incision Waves at the annoying, pathetic little Guyver, Imakarum dodged a blow from Guyver V that would have removed a large chunk of his shoulder. The brat had both of his wrist blades extended and his fists up like a human boxer. Whatever he thought he would accomplish with that tactic, Imakarum was not going to let the boy get away with injuring him again.

Just as Imakarum had been expecting, Guyver V was attempting to punch him. The Vibration Blades on his wrists would have done a great deal of damage if they had been allowed to connect; that was why he would not let them do so. Imakarum was not going to give this miserable, irksome little brat the satisfaction of wounding him again. Once had been _more _than enough.

Darting out of the range of the Guyver boy's fists, Imakarum lashed out with a barrage of Wind Scythes. Guyver V managed to dodge two of them, but the third sheared off his left hand, and the fourth sliced part of his right leg off, leaving the limb torn open and bleeding from the knee down. The fifth did no more than cut off the tip of the fin atop his head, and the boy managed to dodge the sixth.

Still, the fact that the brat was injured now would make it a great deal easier to deal with him in the long run. Or the short, considering the fact that Imakarum did not plan to let the Guyver brat live to threaten Chronos' plans any further, to say nothing of the danger that another Guyver would pose to Kenji. He would not allow _anyone_ to threaten his son.

"Mr. Murakami-!"

"Shut up, you brainless, simpering halfwit!"

Firing an Incision Wave at Sho to shut him up, Imakarum watched in satisfaction as the boy's severed right arm fell to the ground far below. There was still the matter of Crouger to be dealt with, but with Sho – the one who knew how to best use his Guyver – out of the way, dealing with that brat Crouger would be a great deal more simple.

_-Imakarum!-_

_-Lord Shin? Did you want to speak with me?-_

_-There are a pair of news helicopters heading your way. I have been trying to steer them away from your location, but I have not been able to dissuade them as yet.-_

_-You have blockaded the streets that would lead other humans to this area, correct Lord Shin?-_

_-Yes, but these news crews are in helicopters, as I stated before. They will not be affected by a mere roadblock, and I doubt it would be possible for you to conceal an aerial battle from them. They will be approaching your position very shortly.-_

_-I see,- _Imakarum commented, supremely annoyed at the interruption of what had been shaping up into a very entertaining battle for him. _-I will return to Cloud Tower, then.-_

_-Thank you for your understanding, Imakarum.-_

_-And thank you for your warning, Lord Shin.-_

Imakarum ground his teeth in annoyance; reporters were more trouble than they were worth. He knew Masaki Murakami had been a reporter, and that man had caused nothing but trouble for Chronos. Of course, Murakami had not been like any other reporter, but his differences had only made him more dangerous. But now was not the time for such thoughts; the Guyvers had to be dealt with quickly now, before any of those irksome reporters could make trouble for him.

Firing an omni-directional barrage of Gravity Bullets, Imakarum teleported out. Hopefully, the Guyvers – or at least one of them, preferably Sho – would be killed by the blasts. There were other matters that required his attention, such as the inspection of Chronos' Antarctica Research Station that he had been called away from to lead this mission to retrieve the Relic cocoon – a mission that had become a great deal more involved than he had been expecting – came to mind.

It was time he returned to his original duties; there would be other opportunities to annihilate the Guyvers. As much as he wanted to believe that he had eliminated both of them, he knew that that was supremely unlikely. Sho Fukamachi could be irritatingly persistent, and it seemed as though the Crouger boy was made in the same mold, only to a somewhat greater degree.


	33. Family life

As he settled back to the ground, relying mostly on Ryan to support his weight, Sho couldn't help but replay the battle with the – the _Zoalord _who had once been Mr. Murakami – his enemy. The pain from his side helped him to focus, but not so much that he could completely forget what had just happened. Mr. Murakami – Mr. Murakami had just – he couldn't even bring himself to _think_ about what had happened.

Standing, but with his arm still around Ryan's shoulders, Sho waited for his Guyver to finish healing him. He wanted to get out of the armor; Guyvers couldn't cry, after all. Their eyes had nothing that resembled human eyes – not irises, not whites, and not tear ducts. And Sho wanted to curl up and cry for a very long time.

He was grateful to Ryan for protecting him, for keeping him – keeping them both, really – safe from the Zoalord that had come after them. But now, with the battle over, though for what reason Sho still didn't know, there was time for the both of them to rest. Time to heal from all that had happened to them both. When his hyper-sensors alerted him to the approach of various large, slow-moving objects, he turned to look at the road in front of them. That was where the signal was coming from. He didn't know if it was more Chronos troops, but he didn't want to risk removing his Guyver if it was: no human had a chance of fighting off a Zoanoid without at least _some_ kind of enhancement. He'd at least learned that from all the time he'd spent fighting them.

Scanning farther with his sensors, Sho found that the shapes heading toward them were large trucks. Beyond that, though he could tell that they were various kinds of trucks, he didn't know just who had sent them. They could have been more Chronos transports, carrying more Zoanoids to finish them both off now that the – the _Zoalord _was gone. On the other hand, it could be just normal people coming to see what had happened.

If that was the case, then it was best that they both remove the armor. If any normal people saw the Guyver, Chronos would kill them just so they could keep their secrets. He knew; he'd seen it happen before.

_+Ryan, do you think you could tell me who those trucks that are coming toward us belong to?+_

_+Sure, if you'll tell me just how I'm supposed to see that far.+_

Sho shook his head in mild exasperation at himself – he just wasn't used to having to explain everything like this – and tried to think of a way to explain the Guyver's hyper-sensors. _+It's like looking through a pair of binoculars. You just have to think about it if you want to adjust them.+_

_+All right, I guess that makes sense.+_

Sho watched as Ryan scanned the approaching vehicles, knowing that the other Guyver was using his hyper-sensors by watching the movement of the metal orbs in their tracks on his head.

_+It's fine, Sho. It's just a bunch of firetrucks and ambulances; unless Chronos owns the local Fire Department or a hospital or two, I think we're all right.+_

_+That's good,+_ Sho said, turning to look out at the approaching vehicles himself.

It wasn't that he didn't trust Ryan – after the way his fellow Guyver had protected him from… their mutual enemy, he had at least earned that much – it was just that Sho wanted to confirm for himself what Ryan had said. Scanning deeper with his own hyper-sensors, Sho was able to see that what Ryan had said was indeed true. There _were_ only firetrucks and ambulances heading toward their location.

_+All right, Ryan, I think we should un-equip our Guyvers; Chronos will attack anyone who sees the Guyver, and I don't want to get these people involved with them.+_

_+That sounds like a good idea; we just will them off, right?+_

_+Right,+ _Sho said, feeling himself starting to calm down.

Once he was out of the Guyver, though, Sho knew that he wouldn't stay calm. This calm he was feeling was especially fragile, and he would only experience it while he was still in the Guyver's protective armor. Once he was out, once he could function as a simple human being again, Sho knew that he would inevitably break down and cry. It was just that simple.

As the Guyver disengaged, leaving him standing in the street wearing the clothes that he had borrowed from Ryan, Sho closed his burning eyes and sobbed. He barely noticed when something soft wrapped around him, but he _was_ at least mildly grateful not to have landed on the cold, hard asphalt. Feeling something touching the back of his head, and something very similar wrapped around the middle of his back, Sho tensed for a moment.

Then he remembered just where he was and who was with him.

Ryan was the only one who could be doing this for him, and Sho was thankful to have the younger Guyver's support. Even though he didn't really understand what had happened to Mr. Murakami – and there was no way he ever could, since he hadn't met Mr. Murakami before Chronos had taken him – but it still meant a lot that he had someone to depend on now, of all times. When Sho started hearing people talking, and more than that when he heard Ryan talking back, Sho started to wonder what was going on.

He couldn't understand many of the words, of course, but from those few that he _could_ make out, and from the one of his voice, Ryan seemed like he was happily surprised to see these people. That was good; if Ryan was happy to see these people, then that meant that there was less chance of them being Zoanoids. Especially since none of them sounded like they were transforming and attacking.

Pulling away so he could see what was going on around them, Sho caught sight of the group of firetrucks and ambulances that had pulled up as close to the two of them as they could get. None of the vehicles could manage to get close to them, what with the giant hole that had been blown in the road that led to where they were standing. In fact, the entire surface of the road had been pockmarked by their battle.

The surface they stood on was battered and scarred, and some of the fluid from the dissolved Zoanoid corpses hadn't completely evaporated yet. Sho had to wonder what it would look like to someone who hadn't been there from the start of the battle. Someone like any one of the people who were staring at them now. Looking over at the man who was presumably trying to talk to him – he was facing Sho and looking at him, anyway – Sho found that he looked a lot like Ryan. He had the same red hair and green eyes; the jaw was square where Ryan's was more rounded; and the hair had been cropped closer to his head. There was also a smattering of pale reddish-brown dots on his cheeks and forehead. They were even on his chin in places, and Sho didn't know what to make of them.

_+Ryan, do you know that man?+_

_+I sure do, Sho; this is my dad, Norman Crouger. I'd formally introduce the two of you, but there's that whole language barrier we'd have to work around. Not to mention how I'd even know your name in the first place.+_

_+I guess there is that,+ _Sho acknowledged, still trying to pick up on what Ryan's father was trying to talk to him about. It almost sounded like he was trying to ask him something. _+Why would your father be here, Ryan? Did they call him from work when they found you? And… is something wrong with him?+_

_+This is his work, Sho. My dad's a firefighter. And what do you mean, is something wrong with him?+_

_+His face,+ _Sho said, not wanting to offend Ryan but worried that there his father might be sick. _+It's covered in these tiny, red dots. Is – does he have some kind of skin disease?+_

_+Wow, you really need to get out more, Sho. You've really never seen someone with freckles before?+_

_+Is that what they're called?+_

_+Yeah.+_

_+Why don't you have them then, Ryan?+_

_+I inherited Mom's fair skin, which can be really annoying at times, since whenever we go to the beach I end up having to slather on massive amounts of suntan lotion, or I end up turning red as a freshly cooked lobster. We only go once every two years, so that makes it a little easier to deal with, though.+_

_+Oh,+ _Sho said, not quite sure how else to respond to what Ryan had just said.

He _was_ glad that nothing was wrong with Ryan's father, though. When the three of them started walking, Ryan's father guiding them forward almost like he was their bodyguard, Sho looked around. There was now a gathering of reporters – he could tell by the fact that they had cameras and microphones and were shouting what sounded like questions at them – around them. Some of what looked like the local police were attempting to hold them at bay, and Sho was grateful for that.

The fact that he couldn't understand very much of what they were saying notwithstanding, Sho really didn't feel like talking about what had happened today. What he really wanted, more than anything else, was to forget that it had happened at all… It was odd that he hadn't even heard the helicopters landing, though he had to admit that he'd been a bit preoccupied with what had happened to Mr. Murakami and all… Sho bit his lip, trying not to think of that. It wouldn't help anyone if he started crying again.

They had reached an ambulance by now, and Sho could see Ryan's father discussing something with the paramedics. He could also feel Ryan standing next to him with an arm over his shoulder, and he wondered why Ryan hadn't gone with his father.

_+What's going on, Ryan?+_

_+Dad's saying that, even though neither of us have any injuries, we really can't ride home on the firetruck. He's trying to get us a ride on the ambulance. It's not going over so well.+_

_+Why not?+_

_+Well, Dad's always said that 'normal'-type doctors don't tend to respect the opinions of a fireman-paramedic like him. It sounds like it's some kind of stupid authority issue; Dad's arguing him down, though. We should be able to get a ride home soon. Well, a ride back to my house, anyway.+_

_+That's good.+_

Watching as Ryan's father continued to argue with the ambulance driver, Sho tried again to pick out some of the few English words that he could remember from his time at school. But either he had forgotten more than he thought, or he had just never learned any of the words that Ryan's father and the doctor were using.

The gestures and the body language, however, were something that he was a bit more familiar with. He could tell that Ryan's father was either angry or just severely annoyed with the doctor who drove the ambulance. Sho was more willing to believe that he was just annoyed – he wasn't yelling nearly enough for Sho to think he was angry. Finally, the doctor seemed to give up, stepping aside and letting Ryan's father move toward the ambulance. Nodding in what Sho took to be satisfaction, Ryan's father turned and walked back to where he and Ryan were waiting for him.

He and Ryan talked about something in English, and Sho managed to pick out a few words of the conversation. Something about home, and a car, and mother? Maybe Ryan's mother was going to come home? That brought up the question of why she hadn't been here in the first place. Sho was sure that _his_ mother would have come to get him if she'd heard that something like this had happened – that is, if she'd still been alive to hear anything at all, Sho mused, sighing.

When Ryan's father started leading them toward the ambulance, Sho looked over at Ryan. He seemed a bit resigned, and Sho started to wonder why. Neither of them had been captured by Chronos, and Ryan was even getting to go home now. What about that sounded so unappealing to him?


	34. Homecoming

_+Ryan? Is something wrong?+_

_+No; I'm fine, Sho.+_

_+Then why do you look like someone gave you some really bad news?+_

_+When we get back to my place, I'm going to have to think up some really… creative ways of telling this story, just so everyone doesn't think I'm crazy.+_

_+You don't like having to lie to your family,+ _Sho said, understanding Ryan's problem.

He hadn't liked lying to his father about what he and Tetsuro had been doing, back in the days when things like that mattered.

_+Oh, I can lie like a cheap whore when I need to – without flinching, no less. I'm just not sure what I can say about a situation like this.+_

_+Ryan!+_

_+What's with you?+_

_+No one's really _called_ you a cheap whore, have they?+_

_+Well, my principal phrased it more along the lines of a 'two dollar whore'. I figure that's pretty cheap, you know?+_

_+Your _principal_ said that to you?!+_

_+It was actually one of the more pleasant things he's called me; of course, this was just before I broke every one of his windows and spray painted the inside of his car neon orange. The stupid chump _still_ hasn't been able to prove I did that.+_

Ryan's mental tone was distinctly self-congratulatory, and Sho wasn't sure what to make of someone who could be proud of lying and would so brazenly admit to destroying someone else's property. Then again, maybe that was why he had been able to fight so well once he had gotten used to the Guyver; Ryan didn't seem to have much regard for people he didn't know or like. Maybe… then Sho decided to just wait and see. It could very well have been for the best that Ryan had gotten his hands on the Guyver. He seemed to be able to make the same kind of levelheaded decisions that Agito had made when they were fighting with each other against Chronos. Speaking of Agito…

_+Agito, are you there?+_

_+Fukamachi? This is a surprise. The last place I saw you was with the Relic in Mt. Minakami.+_

_+I know; I remember what happened…+_

_+I would think it would be hard to forget, considering the circumstances. Something like that tends to stick in one's mind. How did you manage to escape from Chronos? And what was that cocoon?+_

_+I think it was all that was left of the Relic after that Zoalord got to us.+_

_+Really? That does sound plausible. Where were you in the interim? And how did you escape from Chronos?+_

_+I- I think I was inside that cocoon.+_

_+Hmm; I suspected as much. Now, can you tell me just how you managed to escape from Chronos? Or is that something that the Guyver did subconsciously?+_

_+I escaped because of Ryan, or we both escaped because we met. I don't really know what the exact reason was.+_

_+Who is Ryan?+_

_+Sorry; I forgot you wouldn't know about him, Agito. Ryan Crouger is the newest Guyver; I guess there were more than three Units after all.+_

_+Interesting. Where are you currently, Fukamachi?+_

_+I'm in an ambulance with Ryan; we're heading for his house.+_

_+I meant your geographic location, Fukamachi. Crouger sounds like an American name, but I don't want to make any assumptions.+_

_+Ryan said we were in Colorado Springs. That's in America, right?+_

_+Yes. I should be able to arrange for a transport to come and pick the two of you up. The only problem will be concealing its presence from Chronos' agents in the area.+_

_+Thank you… for thinking of me, Agito.+_

Sho waited, watching the way that Ryan settled back against the wall of the ambulance as the doctors checked his eyes and – from the sounds of their conversation – asked him some questions, to see if Agito would contact him again. When there was no response from the older Guyver, Sho turned to Ryan again.

_+Ryan, are you all right? What happened today, it was—+_

_+Completely beyond the pale? Yeah, I kind of got that feeling. How are you holding up, Sho? You looked really shaken up after that all went down. Not that I blame you, since that guy seemed to know how to push just about every one of your hot-buttons, but are you feeling better now?+_

_+I think I will.+ Maybe…_ Sho thought but didn't say.

What Mr. Murakami had done… it was against everything that he had ever believed in, against everything he had fought and sacrificed so much for. Had losing his son to Chronos really hurt him so much that he was willing to give up everything that had ever meant anything to him just for the chance that he would be able to see his son again? Privately, Sho wondered if he would have made that choice if he hadn't had Mizuki and Tetsuro to protect.

Would he have been willing to— But that line of thought wouldn't get him anywhere; it was in the past, and Sho didn't want to start thinking about things that he couldn't hope to change.

Leaning against the wall as the ambulance continued on its way back to Ryan's house, Sho could feel someone gently squeezing his lower leg. Looking down, Sho found that it was one of the doctors who was applying the light pressure to his calf.

_+Ryan, what are they doing?+_

_+They're checking for broken bones,+_ Ryan said, then calmly glanced downward. _+I think the doc wants you to move your ankle around a bit, Sho. Probably wants to check to make sure it's not misaligned or anything.+_

_+Thank you, Ryan,+ _Sho said, moving his right ankle as his fellow Guyver had advised him to.

_+That's one of the more serious downsides of being found in what looks like the center of a demolition derby without so much as a scratch on ya; people want to know how you did it,+_ settling his hands in his lap, Ryan looked at them. _+I'm glad to have my hand back, though. I'd hate to have to explain to Dad how I managed to lose an entire _hand_. And Mom… Eesh, she'd throw pink fits if she saw me coming back home with only one hand.+_

_+The Guyver regenerates itself pretty quickly,+ _Sho said, leaning back against the wall of the ambulance once the doctors had finished examining him.

_+Yeah, I kind of figured that,+ _Ryan replied, sounding like he was smiling even though he wasn't.

_+I guess you would; sorry.+_

_+You should really stop apologizing so much, Sho, especially when it's not even your fault.+_

_+I know, I'm-+_

_+If you say you're sorry again, Sho, I think I might have to kick you in the shin.+_

It sounded like a joke, and the smile on Ryan's face seemed to say that he wanted to put Sho at ease, but he didn't really know if Ryan would get angry if he kept talking. Agito hadn't been very patient with him, either, so Sho decided to just wait until they had arrived at Ryan's house. And, soon enough, they had.

The ambulance stopped, and Ryan looked to the doors just as Sho heard them clicking open. The doctors helped them to their feet and gently lowered them to the ground one at a time.

XxXxX

Norma Crouger had been in the middle of her lunch break when word of her son's possible involvement in a crash between two large transport trucks had reached her ears. Needless to say, she'd been rather confused; the last thing that she had heard – from one of Dr. Ethan Nathaniel's colleagues, no less – was that Ryan had come down with a rare form of cancer and that he'd had to be transferred to a special treatment center somewhere in the Mediterranean.

To find that he'd been transferred back out, and then nearly killed in a wreck, all without her knowledge was a daunting concept.

She had taken the rest of the day off, letting her fellow neurosurgeons know so that they could take over for her while she went to take care of her son and see if there was anything he needed. Hearing that Norman's fire unit had been dispatched to that very site had been an interesting coincidence, and if Norma had been one to believe in fate, she probably would have thought that that meant something.

As it was, though, Norma was simply concerned with getting back to her son as quickly as humanly possible, a feat that would have been much easier if not for the constant stop-and-go traffic that she was being forced to endure. Still, she managed to make it back home in time to see the ambulance that had brought her little boy back home pulling away from their house.

She'd be inside to check on him in a minute or two; right now she just had to finish parking the car. Once that job was over and done with, her car safe in the garage beside her husband's, Norma left without a look back. There wasn't anything more important to her than seeing that her son was safe and all right. Passing through the kitchen without a second look, Norma made for the living room.

That was where she could hear Ryan and his father talking.

Pausing on the threshold of the living room, Norma saw that there was another person in the room with them, another dark-haired boy who was about five inches shorter than Ryan. She couldn't tell much more than that from where she was standing, since the boy had his back to her, but Norma wasn't so interested in him at the moment.

"Ryan!" she exclaimed, wrapping her arms around her son and squeezing tightly.


	35. Odd Man Out

She never wanted to let him out of her sight again, despite the fact that she knew that wasn't remotely possible. He still had to go to school—he could be kept out for at least a week while he rested from what had to have been an ordeal, but then he would have to go back. It was important that Ryan get an education, no matter how often he complained of being "constantly surrounded by idiots".

Not many people there seemed to properly appreciate Ryan's irreverent sense of humor, and even fewer seemed to want to get to know him beyond the front that he put up. Ryan was a good boy, maybe a little over-enthusiastic sometimes, but everyone could use a bit of excitement in their lives. Still, the people at Ryan's school – at least from the way he described them – didn't seem to want any. To hear Ryan tell it, they were happy being boring.

"Mom! Breathing starting to become an issue here," Ryan called, his voice muffled by something.

"Oh!" Norma let go, watching as Ryan took a few deep breaths. She knew from the way he was carrying on that he was just being melodramatic, but with what he had gone through, she thought he was more than entitled. "I'm sorry about that," she said, grinning as she helped Ryan dust himself off.

"No harm done, Mom," he said, leaning in slightly as she kissed him on the crown of his skull.

"So," she started, looking over at the smaller, dark-haired boy that was standing next to her son. "Who's your new friend?"

XxXxX

As Sho watched Ryan with his parents, he began to feel a thick, hot pain radiating from the back of his throat. He would never get to have another time like this: talking with his father, having his mother comfort him after an ordeal like the one he and Ryan had gone through… He would never have anything like it ever again.

_+Ryan, I think you should stay here.+_

_+What'd you mean by that, Sho?+_

_+When Agito comes, I promise I won't tell him about you,+ _Sho swore, fighting not to let any of his emotions show on his face. _+But you should stay here with your family; you deserve at least that much.+_

_+What are you going on about, Sho? What do you mean, I deserve it? You're not making any sense.+_

Watching Ryan's father as he lifted his son up into an embrace and then ruffled his hair, Sho blinked rapidly to try and stifle his tears. He didn't want to worry Ryan or his parents, but he also didn't want to be responsible for taking Ryan away from the people who obviously loved him. Ryan should at least get to enjoy the kind of life that Sho had given up when he became a Guyver.

But then, he remembered that Chronos had seen Ryan's face; they had heard Ryan's voice. Mr. Murakami _knew who he was!_

_+Ryan, maybe you should come with us.+_

_+Okay, now you're starting to confuse me. Do you want me to come with you or not?+_

_+You should come; I'll tell Agito what happened to you. I think he might even be willing to hide your family from Chronos, too.+_

_+And now you _want_ me to come with you. Which is it, Sho?+ _Ryan sounded annoyed and confused, but mostly confused and Sho didn't want to take the chance of making him angry.

_+I want you to come, Ryan,+_ Sho said. _+And I think you should bring your family, too. Agito can protect them from Chronos.+_

Sho, deciding not to mention his own father for fear of the memories it would bring back, looked over at Ryan. The red-haired Guyver was still in the arms of his father, still being comforted by his mother. How could he ask Ryan to give this up? How could he, when he wanted it for himself? He wanted to have both his father and mother back; he wanted to have his father look at him with such loving pride, have his mother smile at him the way Ryan's did. But his mother was dead, his father was dead, and the closest he could come was to watch Ryan's small family.

But Chronos was still a threat, and even more so since they had seen Ryan's face and been to his house. Mr. Murakami had been the one to lead them there, and with what Ryan had done to him… It was really for the best that Ryan and his family evacuate with Agito. Wasn't it?

_+You said that you were in Colorado Springs, didn't you, Fukamachi?+_

_+Yes.+_

_+Good; I'll be there very soon. Have you explained to Crouger about Chronos?+_

_+I have,+_ Sho paused for a moment, then decided to tell Agito about what had happened. All of it—maybe it would hurt less to talk about Mr. Murakami now that he'd had some time to fully absorb what had happened._ +Agito, there's something else I have to tell you.+_

_+What is it?+_

_+It's— it's about Mr. Murakami.+_

_+Murakami? Murakami was killed back at Relics Point. He's dead, Fukamachi.+_

_+No, he's not,+ _Sho said, feeling small and weak and miserable.

_+What do you mean by that?+_

_+Mr. Murakami – he was— he was taken by Chronos. They… did something to him. He's a Zoalord; he— he works for them now.+_

_+What?!+_

Sho, not feeling up to repeating what he had just said, turned back to watching Ryan and his family. But that hurt, too; it served as a reminder of what he would never – _could_ never – be able to have again. Ryan's father loved him; that much was obvious. And his mother… Sho could just barely remember his own mother, and what memories he had were blunted by the passage of time. She had been kind – he could recall that much at least.

The focus of his memories was mostly on his father, on trying to think of the good times they'd had together. Before Chronos; before the Zoanoids; before he'd ever found the Guyver and had every possibility of a normal life destroyed. Before… everything had gone wrong.

And now it was happening all over again, to someone who'd risked his life to try and save him. Ryan was a good person, if a bit too intense for his taste at times; he didn't deserve to have his life destroyed by Chronos. Of course, there were times that Sho wondered just what _he_ had done to deserve all of the horror that he and his friends had lived through since Chronos had come into their lives. Tetsuro and Mizuki… they probably didn't even know that he had survived that last battle. Or maybe Agito had told them already…

_+Agito?+_

_+What is it, Fukamachi?+_

_+Have you been in contact with Mizuki and Tetsuro?+_

_+No. I haven't contacted any of them. I am certain that that would be the first thing Chronos expects us to do, and I don't want to make it any easier for them to find us than the discovery of Crouger and Murakami's information would.+_

_+I understand.+_


	36. Nighttime Reflections

Turning over slightly, Aptom propped his head on his right hand and looked over the sleeping forms of the two Lost Units sharing what he had originally claimed as _his_ bed. Bio Freezer and Felinos; they might have gone by different names when they were talking to their little friends, but that still didn't change what they were. They were his fellow Lost Units now.

'Freezer had asked him just why he insisted on calling himself a Lost _Unit _instead of a Lost _Number_; he'd blown the guy off with a sarcastic remark, and when the cat had decided that he just had to know, too, he'd told them both to get bent. If they didn't understand without him having to explain it to them, then they weren't likely to understand even with his help.

But Lost Units were different than any other kind of Zoanoid. It wasn't that there was something wrong with them like Chronos said; they were a _unit_ – brethren, even if they had never met before. It was the only thing that any of them had, the only thing that Chronos couldn't take away from them or make them give up. But 'Freezer and Felinos hadn't become Lost Units under Chronos. They'd done it to themselves to save their own lives, and that was what made it so difficult to explain to them just what kind of difference a single word could make.

He wasn't all that good with words, either. At least, not those of the explaining type. Somlum had always been the one to comfort and reassure the others when they had needed it. He himself had always been the one to threaten the people that had been giving his brethren a hard time, even when that had ended up earning him a stay in the clutches of those bastard lab rats.

But then, 'Freezer and the cat had once been Chronos' lab rats themselves. From what he'd heard, though, they hadn't worked with Lost Units. That also fit with the way they spoke to and about him. Neither of them had called him a 'worthless Lost Number' or any of the other shit he'd heard from the other lab rats. Felinos' insults tended more towards the 'insane pervert' side of the spectrum. 'Freezer had never insulted him, but he _had _told him once that his little feud with Feline Face was incredibly juvenile.

He'd told the guy to go jump, of course.

It was kind of fun to rile ol' Feline Face up, and he had to admit that his fellow Lost Unit could give just as good as he got – at least once he had time to realize that Aptom was well and truly determined to screw with him. He had to admit, Feline Face's whole jump-out-of-the-closet-and-try-to-forcibly-dress-h im idea had been a stroke of demented genius, even if it _had_ ended up with both of them tangled in the shredded remains of someone else's shirt and pants.

It'd been fun, and he'd had precious little of that since resigning himself to being stuck here babysitting Guyver I's moronic friends. They were just lucky that Chronos hadn't managed to take over the world, since they'd _really_ be fucked if that happened. Especially given that Little Miss Shizu was teetering on the edge of insanity without her precious boy-toy Agito to keep her company. She was without question one of the most truly pathetic people that it had ever been his displeasure to meet, and he'd met a lot of truly pathetic people during the time he'd worked for Chronos.

But now wasn't the time to think about Little Miss Shizu and whatever her many and varied psychoses were. Now it was time for him to think of a way to get back at Feline Face for the tomato incident. Looking back over his shoulder at the window, covered though it was, he noticed that it was just a bit lighter than it had been. That meant that morning was coming, and _that_ meant that he was going to have to think of something _quickly_.

After all, there were few better times to play a prank than at breakfast.

XxXxX

When he had gotten word that Fukamachi had survived the debacle at Relics Point, he had not been surprised – the younger boy _was_ a Guyver, after all. They weren't easy to kill, but the fact that the other had met up with yet another Guyver was a surprise indeed. He'd been fairly certain that there were only three Guyver units in existence. Of course, the fact that he'd been able to deceive them for so long proved that Chronos was not omniscient the way some people liked to believe.

There was always the chance that Chronos had been unaware of the existence of this Guyver, but however this new Guyver had come into being, it was unquestionably a boon to his own plans. Even one more Guyver would be useful to him, and his agents at Chronos had been reporting that there were sightings of yet another Guyver. This one had been allegedly sighted working with the Anti Chronos Task Force.

The Anti Chronos Task Force seemed to be a counterpart to his own Thunderbolts, another para-military group that was working to wipe Chronos from the face of the Earth. They might prove troublesome to his plans later on, but for now the two groups had the same goal. Now he was biding his time, waiting for his moles in Chronos to pass him the information he would need to determine if they would be worth forming a working relationship with.

But for now there was the matter of Ryan Crouger, the newly discovered Guyver from Colorado. The Fifth Guyver, if the reports of a Guyver cooperating with the Anti Chronos Task Force were indeed accurate.

While he knew that he could trust his soldiers to bring this new Guyver to meet with him, he still preferred to handle these kinds of things personally. Besides, Chronos had a large processing facility operating in that area. Destroying the facility would be a way of striking a powerful blow against them while seeing just what this Ryan Crouger boy was truly capable of.

He truly hoped that this newcomer would not be like Fukamachi in so many ways – while the younger Guyver was easy to manipulate because of his various weaknesses, his other weaknesses made him easy prey for Chronos' manipulations. The debacle with Murakami had proved that beyond any doubt.

It was odd to think that Murakami had become one of Chronos' loyal Zoalords, especially given how much the man had hated Chronos and how obvious his hatred of the organization had been. Then again, Murakami _had_ been a prototype Zoalord, so it wasn't out of the realm of possibility for him to be reprocessed, and those Zoalords _had_ been given complete, uncontested access to Murakami's body…

It was a generally troublesome situation, but there wasn't really anything that any of them could do about it now. Best to focus on those things that _could_ be dealt with.

The transport that he had arranged for himself, a reasonably small and nondescript helicopter, made its way across the Pacific Ocean on its way to the appointed landing site. It wouldn't be possible for him to go from Japan to Colorado in one stop – the limits of his transport's fuel tanks notwithstanding, doing so would invite too much notice from Chronos. The large processing facility in the area, and all of the Zoanoids that would inevitably be staffing it, made it more urgent than usual that he remain undetected by them.

His landing point in Maine, aside from being a refueling stop for his helicopter, was also necessary for him to maintain his all-important cover. Fukamachi and this Ryan Crouger would simply have to deal with any Zoanoids that they happened to encounter while he was in transit. He was at least reasonably certain that Fukamachi would be able to handle any of the lesser Zoanoid models that were sent against him.

It was the matter of Murakami's subversion that gave him more cause for concern, as anyone who had known Fukamachi for as long as he had would know how weak he was, how sentimental. With Murakami fighting on the side of their enemies, it was almost a certainty that Fukamachi would falter whenever he was faced with the Zoalord who had been one of his closest companions. Still, Ryan Crouger had never known Murakami as anything but an enemy, and if he was still alive after having faced the Zoalord – a fact that Fukamachi's report gave him no reason to question – then having him to deal with Murakami could prove advantageous.

Still, time would tell what kind of person this Ryan Crouger was, what kind of use he would have to his own plans in the long run.

Stepping out of his helicopter under the cover of his aides and soldiers of the Thunderbolts he was gathering to himself – the few of them that he had managed to recruit at this early stage anyway – Agito kept his eyes and other senses trained for a glimpse of any of Chronos' various agents. The fact that they believed him to be dead gave him at least some latitude, but it would be remiss to rely too much on such a perception.

Perceptions could easily be changed.

XxXxX

Those new Zoanoids – the Guyver-killer Enzyme II, a name that always made Sean wonder what had happened to the original Enzyme – were starting to show up more often. They were now the main type of model that Chronos seemed to be producing. The newly formed Armored Hunter Division was the one more equipped to deal with those kinds of Zoanoids: their armor had been modified with a special kind of resin that helped to defuse the effects of the acid that was that Zoanoid type's most potent weapon.

That was a good thing as far as Sean was concerned, though he was still a little surprised that Chronos had managed to make even a single Zoanoid that was too powerful for him to beat, much less make the kind of thing that was probably fully capable of killing him. And then to mass-produce those creatures… Cori and her fellow researchers were trying to find a way to kill those things more quickly, maybe even make Chronos give up on using them at all.

That would be the best outcome, though what he really hoped for was another Guyver. But that was a stupid kind of thing to hope for, since there had only been two Guyvers on Earth: he and Crane had been the only Guyvers that there were or ever could be.

Leaning back in his bed, he tried to make himself relax. There would probably be another combat drill to break in the newly shipped Beta units. It was important that he be at full strength for that. The Guyver seemed to react to both his state of body _and_ his state of mind; he'd found that it was more responsive if he was rested and thinking clearly when he used it. The weapons were all controlled by his mind, after all, and the Guyver was pretty much an extension of his body.

Closing his eyes and lying back on his pillow, Sean tried to clear his mind again. Jazmine, one of the ACTF's weapons experts and a formidable sharpshooter, had been trying to teach him some meditation techniques, but none of them had quite seemed to take yet. The fact was that he couldn't stop thinking about those Enzyme IIs; they'd already earned the nickname Type Two among the Hunter Division.

He hadn't given much thought to that; it was just something the others – people who actually stood some sort of chance against the things that were made to kill him – called those Zoanoids. Atkins had said that it was a mark of the progress they were making against Chronos, that they would go to all the trouble of creating massive numbers of Zoanoids that were engineered for the sole purpose of killing him.

That thought wasn't as flattering as Atkins probably thought it would be.

After fifteen minutes of not being able to rest no matter how much he wanted to, Sean rolled over on his side and faced the wall – maybe just staring at it until he fell asleep would work. It took ten minutes of doing nothing and still not falling asleep, before Sean finally gave that up for a bad job. There was a tape of relaxing music that Cori had made for him to use in just these kinds of situations, since she knew how important it was for him to get a good, restful sleep.

Putting the tape into the stereo she'd bought for him, Sean closed his eyes and rolled over on his back to sleep. Finally, the music started to lull him the way nothing else had been able to no matter what he had done before. Settling down for what was either going to be a short or a long nap, Sean closed his eyes and drifted off, the music still providing a soothing aural background for him to sleep to.


	37. Friendly Advice

It was a while before he'd managed to fully clean the raw eggs out of his hair, and by that time he'd started laughing at the sheer absurdity of it all. Who knew that Feline Face had that good of a throwing arm, or that little Natsuki would have been willing to let him use up an entire carton of eggs just to get back at him? Of course, it probably had something to do with the truly massive amount of salt and vinegar he'd put into those eggs – the ones that had ended up being cooked rather than thrown at his head, of course.

He wasn't one to easily admit when he was beaten; any of those bastard Hyper Zoanoids would have been able to attest to that, if they weren't all taking up space in his gullet, that was. Thinking of those saps always made him chuckle, and this time wasn't any exception to that rule. Laughing as he stepped out from under the showerhead and shook himself off, making sure not to splatter any water where it wouldn't go down the drain, since he didn't want to get another lecture, he left the shower and grabbed a towel.

He'd never quite noticed the more bizarre changes to his anatomy until he'd had 'Freezer and Feline Face to point them out. Still, the fact that he didn't have sweat glands anymore didn't preclude him from enjoying a good, hot shower. It just meant that he didn't get them as often as he would have liked. Natsuki'd said that they needed to conserve water, at least to the point where no one would think that there were _eight_ different people sharing this one apartment with each other. Someone was bound to come and investigate if they thought that there was something strange going on here, and that someone could very easily be from Chronos.

With his towel, or at least the one that he had been using every time he decided to take a shower, wrapped around his waist to avoid both the weird looks from the other people who lived in the apartment and Feline Face's attempted 'dressing', he made his way back to their room. Feline Face was lounging on the bed, reading some book or other, but he looked up as soon as he heard the door closing, and he smirked when he saw Aptom.

"Well, I see you managed to get all of the egg out of your hair," Feline Face said, smirking as he turned to look at him, then turned back to his book with that same irritating smirk on his irritating face.

"Yeah, no thanks to you."

"Well, that's what you get for trying to set my tongue on fire," Feline Face said, still wearing that smirk.

"I'm going to get you back for this, you know," he shot back.

"You know you're perfectly welcome to _try_," Feline Face said, turning to grin at him. "I can't make any guarantees about the state you'll be in afterward, though."

"Are you two still having that ridiculous feud of yours?" 'Freezer asked as he came back into their room.

"No, we'd moved on to obliquely threatening one another when you came in," Feline Face said. "What have you been doing lately, Toshi-kun?"

"I've been apologizing to our generous hosts for _your_ antics," 'Freezer said, sweeping his arm to include both of them in his little condemnation. "The _least _you could have done after provoking Howard to pelt you with eggs was to stay and help clean up the kitchen."

"No, the _least _I could have done was absolutely nothing," he grinned. "Which I already did, I might add."

'Freezer gave him The Look for that one, and Aptom didn't even bother trying not to stick his tongue out at the guy. This wasn't Chronos, after all, and even though his two new comrades were former lab rats, he knew that they didn't have any more love for the company than he did. Once they had inevitably found out that his diet consisted solely of Chronos-produced Zoanoids, there had been only a slight amount of freaking out.

Tetsuro, the fat kid who was always hanging around with Sho, had seemed really eager to talk to him after that choice little revelation. There were even times when the kid would all but shadow him in his eagerness to get just one more piece of information out of him. It could be kind of annoying at times, but if there was one thing he was good at besides pissing off Chronos, it was not being seen.

Those skills of his were getting a real workout around that Tetsuro, so he supposed that he could think of the whole "stalking" issue as a chance to practice his evasion skills. It was kind of fun to play a game where the penalty of losing was just being pestered for a few hours about what kind of things you did all day as opposed to getting blasted or torn apart or some other generally unpleasant thing like that. He supposed he could even be grateful to the little butterball.

He wasn't ever going to admit that, even under pain of torture, of course – he still had _some_ pride, at least.

XxXxX

When he realized that Agito wasn't there with him, and that the other Guyver probably wouldn't be coming for quite some time, he didn't know what to do at first.

_+Hey! Yo, Sho!+_

_+Ryan?+_

_+You looked like you just got a shock about a second ago. What's up?+_

_+I don't think Agito's going to be here for a while,+ _he said, looking back at Ryan's family. They were still talking, with Ryan putting in the occasional word of his own. _+I don't know what I'm going to be able to do.+_

_+You know, that's about the third time you've mentioned that Agito guy, and you still haven't told me who he is.+_

_+I'm sorry; Agito is the other Guyver, one that I've known from almost the first time that I equipped the Guyver.+_

_+Well, I guess if he's a friend of yours, then I pretty much have to like him. What's he like, just for future reference?+_

How to even describe Agito? _+I… I really wouldn't know what to say about him?+_

_+You trying to be nice, or is he really all that enigmatic?+_

_+He's… he's not someone who can be summed up in just a few words. I don't even think I know him all that well, myself.+_

_+Well _that_ sounds really reassuring. I can't _wait_ to meet the guy in person.+_

Something in Ryan's tone didn't sound quite right to him. _+Ryan, were you being sarcastic?+_

_+Kinda, yeah. In my experience, guys who try too hard to be all enigmatic and stuff either have some serious issues that they don't want you to find out about, or they just like screwing with people for the fun of it. Believe me, I've had close encounters with both types; it's not pretty.+_

He really didn't think that Agito was anything like the people that Ryan had described, but then again, he didn't know him all that well, even with all the time that they had spent together. Maybe Agito did have something to hide the way Ryan had said. Privately, he didn't think that Agito was the type to enjoy playing mind games, but he wasn't going to say that. Still, none of that helped solve the problem of just where he was going to stay while he was waiting for his fellow Guyver to come.

_+Ryan, do you know anywhere I might be able to stay? I'm afraid I don't have any money, but I don't want to trouble you and your family anymore.+_

_+I think I know a place you'd be comfortable. They don't charge you anything, and you can even get hot meals and access to the TV – at least when someone else isn't watching it.+_

_+Where is that, Ryan? Can you take me there soon?+_

_+Right here, Sho. You're standing in it,+_ Ryan said, sounding like he wanted to laugh but was restraining himself.

_+Your house? Are you sure your parents would want me here?+_ he asked, not wanting to be a burden to anyone if he could help it, especially not to someone who had already done so much for him. _+I mean, I think I might be able to find another place to stay.+_

_+With no money and no English skills? Get real, Sho. We've got a guest room we can get you all set up in.+_

_+What about your parents?+_

_+You just leave them to me.+ _Ryan's tone was confident, and for a moment Sho thought that the younger Guyver would be able to take on anyone. But he didn't like the idea of Ryan having to lie to his parents again. _+You really don't have to do this for me. I'm sure I can find somewhere else to stay.+_

_+Don't try to go all noble on me, Sho. We both know you're not going to be able to get anywhere with your complete lack of familiarity with the area, so just shut up and let me work, all right?+_

There was no particular malice in Ryan's tone, but he _was_ starting to sound exasperated, so Sho let the subject drop.


	38. Candidate for Zoanoid

The candidates had been selected, with no more input from Imakarum's son than to "make sure they were real strong," though he honestly hadn't been expecting more than the most rudimentary criteria from the child. A Zoalord he may very well have been, but that did not change the fact that he was a child. Fried'rich knew this better than most, though the staff of Cloud Tower had come to realize it as well.

They treated him fairly for the most part, though a fair number of the human staff were leery around the boy at present. It was only to be expected, though – the thought of something like that happening to such a young child was an anathema to him as well.

There was simply no way to return Imakarum's son to the way he had been before coming into contact with the former Zoalord Reholt Gyou, to say nothing of the forced-growth he had been put through before he had been processed. The fact remained that the Zoalord process was irreversible once completed. The child was adapting, as children often did, to his new body and the power that came with it. Still, Fried'rich knew that he was not alone in wishing that the boy once named Kenji Murakami had never been forced to endure such things as he had.

The reports on the progress of the child's Alvix model Zoanoids sat on his desk; he had already perused them and made note of the important information. Kenji had asked that he hide them, just in case Imakarum came in and saw them. He'd smiled indulgently and then explained to the boy that there was very little chance of his father finding the progress reports unless he decided to search Fried'rich's desk.

He'd gone on to explain that Imakarum, favored though he seemed to be by Lord Alkanphel, would not be so rude as to impinge on another Zoalord's private space without expressed permission, which he did not have in this case. Kenji had seemed satisfied by this explanation. Now all that remained was to finalize the Alvix as a viable breed of Standard Zoanoid.

There would be a waiting period of five more weeks while that was taken care of, and Kenji seemed to be getting impatient to inform his father of his accomplishments. He _had_ told the boy that he was welcome to tell Imakarum if that was what he truly desired, but he had been rebuffed rather completely: Kenji obviously had his heart set on presenting his father with a finalized Zoanoid model. Fried'rich could understand his motivation – the desire to please a parent was probably almost instinctive for any child – but learning the value of patience was hard for someone his age.

Growing up was like that for any child, however, and Fried'rich was not going to coddle the boy simply because he had endured so many hardships in his short life. Imakarum himself did more than enough of that. Not being the boy's father gave him the opportunity to see the boy in a way that he doubted Imakarum ever would.

The child was staying in the lower levels of Cloud Tower, separated from the Lost Numbers by seven levels. It would not be good for a Zoalord, especially a child like Kenji, to be exposed to Lost Number Zoanoids. They couldn't be controlled by any means that a Zoalord could employ and were likely to attack him or attempt to trap him down in the lower levels.

Imakarum would be displeased if his son came to harm while he was under the care of the staff of Cloud Tower. Given how overprotective the man tended to be, he was more than likely to kill those responsible. It was best not to take such chances with the lives of both his staff and the life of Imakarum's son.

The group of six Alvix models were a mere week and a half from completing their processing; Kenji would be pleased when he heard that.

Still, there were more important things that had to be taken care of before he could tell the boy that the Zoanoids he had had a hand in creating were nearly ready to be presented to his father. There were still the matters of the Anti Chronos Task Force and the Fourth and Fifth Guyvers to consider.

The fact that the boy had managed to escape from the Dead Sea Plant, a place where the security was very tight and there were hundreds of thousands of Zoanoids to deal with any escapees, was not something that gave him a great deal of confidence. That he had also met up with the First Guyver, as Imakarum had reported when he had battled them and Shin had confirmed from his own observations, was also worrisome. There would be a great deal of work needed to locate the First and Fifth Guyvers.

The Zoanoids among the Colorado Springs Police had informed Shin that Sho Fukamachi and Ryan Crouger had left for the latter's house. That would make it a great deal easier to locate them. Shin had ordered some of his Zoanoids to monitor the neighborhood where the boy lived in case that one of them was to leave the house. Such a method would make it a great deal easier to find and capture the two boys.

Now all that remained was to wait them out.

XxXxXxX

It had been two and a half weeks since he had been invited to stay with Ryan at his house. The guest room was a great deal larger than the room he'd had at home, but sleeping on the bed was a new enough experience that he didn't get very much sleep. The breakfasts that Ryan's mother had cooked for him were delicious, and he couldn't help but feel that he should be doing something more for her than what he was doing. Ryan was the one who took out the trash (though there weren't as many kinds as he was used to) and cleared off the table when the meal was done.

He'd tried to offer to do that himself, but since he didn't understand much of what they were saying, and he didn't think they understood him, there really wasn't any way for him to offer anything to them. He didn't like that very much, but there really wasn't anything that he could do about that. There had been times that he'd vacuumed the floor or swept the kitchen for them, but he still didn't feel like it was enough sometimes. Ryan had offered him a place in his home and food to eat while he was there; he should have been able to do something to help.

_+Fukamachi?+_

_+Agito? Are you going to be here soon?+_

_+I will be at the house by the end of the day. It will take me some time to locate the signal from yours and Crouger's Guyvers.+_

_+I'll tell him that you'll be here soon. What are you going to do about his family?+_

_+I'll have my soldiers take them into protective custody,+_ he said.

_+I'm sure he'll be happy to hear that,+_ he answered, smiling. _+I'll go tell him.+_

_+Very well, then. I will speak to you later, Fukamachi.+_

When he could no longer hear Agito's voice inside his head, Sho turned and headed for Ryan's room. He had to tell the other Guyver what was going to be happening soon – there wasn't much time for them to get ready to leave the house. Still, it was better that they leave as soon as they could, rather than wait for Chronos to capture them.

_+Ryan?+_

_+What is it, Sho?+_

_+Can I come in?+_ he asked, standing outside Ryan's door.

_+Sure, what did you want to talk about?+ _Ryan asked, as he opened the door and let Sho in.

They both made for Ryan's bed, where Sho noticed one of Ryan's large, flimsy, full-color manga lying spread out. It was still open, so he'd probably been reading it when Sho had knocked.

_+So, sit down and tell me what's on your mind.+_

Sitting down on Ryan's bed once the younger boy had cleared a space for him, Sho took a deep breath. He didn't know quite how to phrase what he was going to say, but maybe it was best that he said it and didn't worry so much about how it sounded.

_+Agito's going to come today, Ryan. He's going to be taking your family into protective custody, since Chronos is probably going to be coming after them, too… after what you did to Mr. Murakami.+_

_+You're talking about that crazy guy who tried to kill me?+ _Ryan paused, then before Sho could think up an answer, he started speaking again. _+I don't think that guy's who you think he is, Sho. He really didn't seem to like it when you called him Murakami, either.+_

_But that's who he _is_…_ he couldn't help thinking, though Ryan most likely would have started arguing with him about it. He'd never known Mr. Murakami, and he probably wouldn't understand. It was best not to bring it up again, he decided.


	39. Acting the part

_+Anyway, when's your buddy going to get here? I like to plan these things ahead of time, and breaking this kind of thing to my parents isn't going to be easy.+_

_+I never thought of that,+_ he admitted, feeling stupid and thoughtless. _+I'm sorry.+_

_+You couldn't have known; stop apologizing for stupid stuff.+_

Sho sat back; Ryan had sounded more annoyed than he'd ever heard him sound before. _+I guess he's going to get here at the end of the day – Agito, I mean. You'll have time to tell your family about what happened, time to explain what Chronos is and what they do.+ Time I never really had,_ Sho thought semi-bitterly.

But then that wasn't really true. He'd had more time than Ryan to tell his father what had been going on in his life, what he'd been doing while he was away from the house for all those sleepless nights and strange days. He'd just thought that his father would have been safer – less prone to worry or try to help and thereby endanger himself – if he didn't know what his son was actually doing. He'd been painfully, horribly wrong: his father had been only one of many casualties of the battle he and Chronos fought.

And now Mr. Murakami… Mr. Murakami was… He couldn't even bring himself to _think_ it: thinking it would make it real, and reality was not a pleasant place for him now.

_+So, is there anything else you wanted to talk to me about?+_

His thoughts brought firmly back to the room he was in and the bed he was sitting on by Ryan's mental voice, Sho considered the question. _+No; there really isn't anything more I can think of at the moment, Ryan, but I'll let you know if anything comes up.+_

_+You do that,+ _Ryan said, nodding. _+I'll see you at lunch.+_

_+See you, Ryan.+_

Leaving the other Guyver to his reading, Sho turned and left the room.

XxXxXxX

It had taken most of the day to trace the signals from Fukamachi and Crouger's Guyver units, but in the end he had managed to find the place where Guyvers I and V were staying. It was a modest suburban home – modest for this area, at least. Back in Japan, owning a place like this would have been considered quite prestigious. But those kinds of thoughts served no purpose for him here; it was best that he concentrate on the task ahead.

He still did not know how Crouger would react to the situation he had stumbled into; Fukamachi's description painted the other Guyver as being a levelheaded sort, but anyone who knew him knew that Fukamachi was not a good judge of character.

_+Fukamachi, are you well?+_

_+Agito?+_ the younger Guyver paused for a moment, though whether to gather his thoughts or contemplate his current situation Agito neither knew nor particularly cared. _+Yes, I'm fine. Ryan and his family are talking in his living room.+_

_+Have you told him that I will be coming today?+_

_+I did.+_

_+And how did he react?+_ he asked, somewhat annoyed that he even had to pose the question. Fukamachi was not the brightest of people, true, but even he should have been able to anticipate that Agito would want to know how Crouger had responded.

_+He wished that he had been given more time to deal with things; he said he likes to plan ahead.+_

_Some decent news for a change,_ he mused. If Crouger had said that, then he did indeed sound like the type of person who would be able to handle himself – certainly much better than another weak-willed boy like Fukamachi. Still, best to make his own assessment. There might be other factors at play.

XxXxXxX

Sitting in Ryan's living room, hearing the conversation that the other Guyver was having with his parents, it seemed to Sho that he was having a hard time convincing them. Sho could make an educated guess as to what they were talking – or rather, disagreeing – about. Ryan was talking – and sometimes gesturing – animatedly while his parents sat back on the long couch and stared at him.

He could only make out a few words of the discussion, due both to his rusty English skills and the speed they were all speaking at. A knock at the door caused Ryan to pause, looking mildly curious about who was doing the knocking. When the younger Guyver got up, waving to his parents as his mother started to rise from her seat, Sho turned to watch him leave. Judging by the looks on all three faces, Ryan wasn't have the best time getting through to his parents.

_+Things aren't going well, are they Ryan?+_

_+I think the phrase 'so happy I could stick a fork in my eye' just about covers it.+_

_+Oh.+_

He watched as Ryan left, wishing that there was a way he could help his parents understand the urgency of the situation their son was facing, but like Ryan had said, there was still a language barrier. Hearing Ryan's voice again, just for a few seconds, before he came striding back into the living room with an expression of slight annoyance on his face, Sho turned to look his way again.

_+Who was that, Ryan?+_

_+Some guy.+_

When he sat back down on the couch next to his family, speaking to them in the same hurried tone he'd been using for the entire conversation, Sho started to wonder just when Agito was going to make it here. Surely he could help Ryan explain the situation to his mother and father – having another Guyver who could likely speak English could only help Ryan's case.

_+Fukamachi?+_

_+Agito! I was wondering if you were going to contact me again before you got here; are you going to be here soon?+_

_+I am here, Fukamachi,+_ Agito said, sounding mildly irritated. _+Do you know why Crouger closed the door in my face?+_

_+He did?+ _he asked, turning to look back at Ryan as he spoke with his parents. _+Why do you think he would do something like that?+_

_+I'm sure I don't know. Now could you tell Crouger why I'm here?+_

_+Of course,+_ he said, nodding. _+Ryan, Agito's here. He says you closed the door in his face? Why did you do that?+_

_+We get a lot of door-to-door morons around here; I just figured he was one of them. I guess I'll go let him in now, yeah?+_

_+I think that would be best.+_

Ryan, levering himself out of his seat, waved his hands in what looked to Sho like a placating gesture to his parents, and made his way back to the front of the house. From where he was sitting, he could hear Ryan and Agito talking. He couldn't understand that conversation any more than he had understood the one between Ryan and his parents, but he was glad to know that the three of them were back together at last.

That meant they would be able to leave soon.

He didn't quite know why Chronos hadn't sent any Zoanoids to the house, even with all the time they had been spending there, but he was glad for whatever it had been that had protected them. But, now that Agito was here and could help Ryan explain things to his parents, they could leave before Chronos decided to come for them.


	40. Moving Out

The presence of the clipboard in the hands of the little butterball let him know just how long and involved this little Q&A session was going to be. It was his own fault, really – he'd been lolling around the main room after hiding all of 'Freezer's shoes in the bathtub. Either fact could have been responsible for his current situation.

Still, just because he'd been cornered by the butterball and was now going to have to talk to him, that didn't mean he couldn't have some fun with the kid. Of course, the fact that Tetsuro seemed to either be genuinely interested in him or very good at faking things like that made the situation more bearable. He might even give the kid some actual _information_ as opposed to just some crap that sounded plausible. He'd been in his own body more than long enough to figure out what was what for himself, after all.

As the session began, with Tetsuro looking like some bright and eager little five-year-old – or maybe like a chubby little squirrel – he started to genuinely enjoy the whole question-and-answer thing. Not that he'd be telling the little butterball any of that, but maybe if the kid was as smart as he thought he was, he'd figure that out on his own. Sitting back in his chair as Tetsuro started to sort through his notes, looking like he was trying to figure out what, if anything, he wanted to ask next, Aptom smirked slightly.

Even though he was going to leave soon, what with getting bored cooped up in this place and wanting to go hunt some of those tasty Zoanoids that had been showing up more and more often lately, he could at least offer some answers to the kid who had been so persistent in pursuing them. _Some. _Maybe not all and maybe not most, but he would give him a few.

During a lull in the conversation, Aptom sat back and looked at his cards. One of the things he couldn't quite figure out about the kid was why he had such a fetish for playing Go Fish; it really didn't seem like a game the kid would have been interested in. It seemed too "kiddy" for someone who was trying to find out everything he could about Chronos' genetic-manipulation methods. It was kind of an interesting dichotomy, how Tetsuro presented himself versus what people would think from hearing about him.

And he really had to stop thinking about things like that before even _he_ started to think he'd gone soft in the head. Putting down his cards when it looked like ol' Tetsuro had thought up another question to ask him, though what was on that clipboard if it wasn't the questions he'd already thought to ask, Aptom wasn't sure, he waited for the kid to start talking again. When he did, Aptom rested a hand on his cards and started to speak in his turn.

Thinking about his past with Chronos wasn't something that he liked to do all that often. In fact he really preferred to avoid the subject whenever possible, but with this kid he could make something of an exception. Not enough that he'd be forced to relive any truly horrific memories, but enough that he'd give the little butterball a good look at what being a Lost Unit in Chronos really meant.

That would probably be enough to scare him off asking ever again.

XxXxXxX

Mr. Fried'rich had told him that the people who were going to be the first group of Alvix Zoanoids had been chosen today, but he'd also said that Dad was back now. That meant that he couldn't go check on his Alvix and see how they were doing, since he really didn't want Dad to find out about them until they were done. Mr. Fried'rich had said he would take care of the Alvix while Dad was around, so that was nice to know. He'd also said that he would call him when they were done, and Kenji thought that was really nice of him. He'd thanked Mr. Fried'rich and hugged him a little, too.

Now he was sitting in their room, waiting for Dad to get back. When the door opened and his dad walked into the room, Kenji tried really hard not to look like he was trying not to say something.

"Kenji, is something wrong?"

He shook his head, really hoping that Dad would be happy with that and wouldn't ask him any more questions. He really, really wanted his Alvix Zoanoids to be a surprise.

"Kenji, there's no need for you to hide things from me. I can protect you from anything that troubles you, my son," Dad said, and then put his hand on his shoulder. "Now, what is it that you're so troubled about?"

"Nothing, Dad," he said.

"Kenji." Dad was looking really serious now. "I know you don't like to worry me about things, but I only want to know what's going on so I can help you. If you don't tell me, then I can't take care of you very well. And I only want to know because I worry about you when I'm away, just like you worry about me when I'm not here. Do you understand that, Kenji-chan?"

He nodded; he really didn't want to worry Dad, especially not when there was really nothing going on. Dad had enough to think about; he was busy a lot of the time, so when he did get to come home, he had to want to rest. That's what Kenji would have wanted to do if _he'd_ been working all day.

"I understand, but there's really nothing going on, Dad."

"Is that true, or are you just saying that so I won't worry about you?"

"It's nothing, really. Mr. Purg'stall has been taking really good care of me."

"I'm glad to hear that, Kenji-chan. Now what are you hiding from me?"

"I'm not hiding anything from you, Dad," he lied, feeling a little bad but not wanting to spoil the surprise he had before it was all ready.

"I know you're not telling me the truth, Kenji-chan. Now if something's been going on here that you don't like, I want to know about it so I can do something."

"But, Dad… it's a _secret._"

XxXxXxX

Kenji didn't really seem to understand that all he wanted to do was to protect him. Whatever was going on, it was clearly causing Kenji distress, and the last thing Imakarum wanted was for Kenji to be uncomfortable in any way. But since Kenji seemed determined to keep whatever was bothering him a secret, Imakarum knew that the only way he was going to find out what Kenji was so worried about was to… find out from him directly.

He didn't particularly like the idea of doing… something like that to his son, but he knew it was the only way to find out what had been troubling him.

Gently wrapping Kenji in his arms, as if he was merely going to cuddle the boy, Imakarum gently touched their foreheads together. Subtly working himself into his son's mind, he found that Kenji wasn't distressed after all, merely excited. He also found that he'd inadvertently spoiled a surprise that Kenji had been preparing for him. He'd have to apologize for that, of course.

Still, Kenji's safety came first above all other concerns. He'd explain that to Kenji when he apologized. The boy would understand – everything he did was to protect him from harm, after all.

XxXxXxX

It had taken some time to explain things to Crouger's parents, even with the headway that Crouger himself had started to make. In the end, he'd been forced to equip his Guyver unit and direct Crouger in equipping his own before they would believe that what he was trying to tell them wasn't simply some made-up story. Though how they had come to that conclusion, when it was obvious that neither he nor Crouger had met before, he didn't know.

The fact that Crouger's father had decided to stay behind, while it was his own choice and at least fairly logical given his line of work, was troubling. If he was taken by Chronos, there was a chance that Crouger would suffer the same psychological trauma as Fukamachi, and that would be rather troublesome. Admittedly, Crouger did not seem to be one to succumb to weak sentiment the way that Fukamachi did, but first impressions could be misleading.

As the transport that he had arranged to bring them along the first leg of their journey pulled away from the Crouger household, he turned his attention to the newest Guyver. The younger boy looked distraught, but not as much as Fukamachi would have in his place. He knew; he had had ample time to observe Fukamachi in various states of mind.

"Are you still troubled, Crouger?"

"I guess," the boy said, obviously morose. "I mean, I know it's his decision and all, and I know he's got all these big responsibilities as a fireman, but I can't help wishing that he'd chosen to come with us. He's pretty much putting his life in the hands of Chronos."

"If there is anything I can do for you," he began, trusting Crouger to fill in the rest but still curious to know what the boy's reaction would be.

"I don't think there's much, unless you can alter time or send someone to keep an eye on my dad."

As Crouger turned away from him, leaning his forehead against the darkened glass of the window, Agito reflected on the younger boy's requests. His first seemed to be merely a joke, or an offhanded statement not meant to be taken seriously. His true request, however, was a great deal more practical than any of Fukamachi's would have been.

"I could post some of my soldiers around your father to ensure that no harm comes to him."

"Thanks," Crouger said, turning to smile at him. "That means a lot to me."

When the younger Guyver – younger even than Fukamachi, he suspected – turned back to his observation of the passing roadway, Agito considered him. The red-haired boy seemed to be more sensible than Fukamachi; time would tell if he would be as useful.

"Huh, looks like they're adding on to the old Brant building," Crouger muttered, clearly talking to himself.

He was fully prepared to ignore what the youngest of the Guyvers had said, as the one-sided conversation was clearly not meant for his ears, but then the name of the building that he had mentioned registered.

"Brant?" he repeated, fixing his gaze on Crouger. "You wouldn't be talking about Brant Medical Technologies, would you?"

"_That's_ what the place is called. I could never quite manage to get that name to stick in my head; Mom says they're some kind of health organization. They've even offered her a job a few times – at least that's what she told me."


	41. Keeper of Secrets

"It's a good thing we got you two out when we did, then," he said.

"Why's that?" Crouger asked, turning back to face him.

"Brant Medical Technologies is one of Chronos' front corporations. If they were looking to recruit your mother, they would have likely had their eyes on you, as well. You're healthy and in good physical condition; it's more than possible that they would have had you marked as a candidate for processing later."

"Shit. You mean they would have turned me into one of those Zoa-things?"

"Zoanoids," he corrected, out of habit. "You're currently too young to undergo processing safely – the lower age limit for the procedure is seventeen – but it's quite probable that Chronos would have wanted you to become a Zoanoid once you had reached the right age."

"Well, that would suck," was Crouger's opinion. "I think I'm glad I became a Guyver instead of having _that_ happen to me."

"And glad we found you, I think."

"Yeah," Crouger said, guffawing. "That, too."

"Anyway, we should deal with that Chronos base before we leave," he said, seeing the perfect opportunity to deal Chronos a severe blow and at the same time gauge how useful Crouger was going to be to his future plans.

"That's kind of what we do, yeah?"

"You know about our battle with Chronos?" he asked, relived and slightly impressed that Crouger had taken the time to learn such a thing.

"Sho and I talked a lot," he said. "We didn't really have that much to do for the first two weeks we were at my house, since Mom had pretty much forbidden me to go to school until she was satisfied that I'd gotten better. Moms, huh?"

The expression on Crouger's face was such that he suspected he was being invited to share in a joke. "I wouldn't know."

The look Crouger gave him was one of mild confusion, but he didn't intend to explain anything of his life story. Not even to Fukamachi, whom he had known through a good deal of the time he'd been at school and certainly not to someone he'd only met that day, no matter how useful the gray Guyver might prove himself to be.

"Fukamachi?" he asked, switching back to his native language with the ease of long practice.

"What is it, Agito?"

"There's a Chronos processing facility in this area," he said, knowing what effect it would have on his fellow Japanese Guyver. "I don't know how large it is as yet, but Crouger seems to know this area fairly well. I'm sure he would be able to inform us of the best possible avenues of attack."

"I think so, too," the younger Guyver said, nodding. "I'll ask him about it."

He was slightly surprised to hear that, until he remembered that Fukamachi had been communicating with Crouger in that selfsame way for the past two weeks. He was likely used to it by now. While he waited for the other two Guyvers to come to a consensus – preferably one favorable to his plans so he wouldn't have to take time convincing them – he gave an order to the driver to pull over.

This neighborhood they were traveling through seemed to be quite calm, even placid, at this point, but he doubted very much that it would remain so after the attack conducted on this branch of Chronos. Ordering the driver, one of his lower-level but unfailingly loyal soldiers, to stop at the nearest available area where they would be able to easily conceal themselves once they had left their vehicle, he turned to regard Crouger as the younger boy nudged him.

"What is it?"

"If you're looking for a place to hide this thing, there's always the Haunted Lot."

"What haunted lot?"

"It's this old parking structure that they haven't really gotten around to demolishing yet. Well, mostly, anyway… they took down all of the upper levels and cleared them out, but there are two underground levels that nobody's done anything with. Everyone here just calls it the Haunted Lot. The name fits – it definitely _looks_ like it could be haunted."

"What do you mean?"

"It has all these deep, jagged shadows – there are these chunks of concrete and asphalt all over the place that a lot of us pick up for souvenirs."

"Are you sure the building is structurally sound?" he asked, not wanting to go into a place that was liable to collapse on him without warning.

"I'm sure; I've been in and out of there a few times myself."

Sitting back in his seat, contemplating the new information he'd been given, he turned to look back at the other Guyver. "Where is this haunted lot of yours in relation to the Brant building?"

"It's three blocks down, but you'll have a clear line of sight to the building," he chuckled. "If you can even see it from that far away, that is."

It sounded almost ideal for this kind of operation, so he ordered the driver to head in that direction. Once they had reached the indicated area, he could begin to see the reason that the people here – the children, at least – had decided to call this place haunted. It certainly had the ambiance of a place forgotten by time, and if he'd been inclined to believe in such foolish things as ghosts, this would be the kind of place where he'd expect them.

There were a few broken blocks and torn up slabs of concrete, some with severed ends of rebar sticking out of them like shattered twigs. It was impossible to calculate how large the structure would have once been, as most of the debris had been removed, and the few large chunks that remained were not enough to make even a conservative estimate.

"You said that this 'haunted lot' of yours was underground?" he asked.

"That's what I said."

"The driver says he cannot see a way into the underground chamber that you spoke of."

"This'd be a lot easier if I was riding shotgun," the redhead said, grabbing the empty passenger seat and hauling himself forward. "Or if I was on foot," he muttered, clearly speaking to himself again. "You see those two slabs that are really close together?"

The soldier, after looking to him and receiving conformation, turned his attention back to Crouger. "I see them."

"Good. Keep driving until you get at least three feet out from them, then turn right. You'll be able to see the ramp; it's got a few rocks on it, but we've cleared away most of the big ones."

"I'll keep that in mind."

Folding his arms and leaning back against his seat, he felt the expected change in orientation as their car proceeded down the ramp.

"Thanks for warning me about the rocks, kid."

"No problem," Crouger said, releasing his grip and settling back into his seat.

Soon enough, their vehicle had entered the darkness of what was obviously the former underground parking structure that the children of this area had dubbed the haunted lot. Leaving his soldier with orders to remain with the vehicle, he stepped outside and surveyed the place. It was easy to see how the impression had been given: the shadows that gathered there in the absence of any working lights certainly made the artificial cavern seem eerie.

"When do you and your companions come down here?" he asked, looking around.

"We usually come down here at night," he said, helping Fukamachi out of the car and then looking around himself. "We've even set off some fireworks a few times. Mostly on the Fourth of July, but there have been a few times we've set them off just for fun. Bottle rockets, mostly; nothing that can do any real damage to reinforced concrete."


	42. The Haunted Lot

"Agito, shouldn't we be going now?" Fukamachi asked.

"Of course," he said calmly, even as he berated himself for being distracted. "Crouger," he said, switching back to English. "Recall your Guyver and come with me."

"Sure."

Once they were all clad in the Bio-Booster armor, he noticed that Crouger was staring at his hands.

"Is there something on your mind?" he asked.

"I just haven't had so much time to get used to this – certainly not after just doing it twice."

"What about the battle you participated in against Murakami?" he asked. If Crouger was still uneasy about his abilities, he wouldn't be of much use at all.

"Who?" Crouger's tone was one of confusion. "Oh, you mean that psycho guy who claims he was Sho's friend?"

"Yes."

"He said his name was Imakarum. He seemed pretty pissed when I called him Murakami."

"Indeed?" he asked, interested in any psychological advantage that he could have against the Zoalord who had once been one of their allies.

"Yeah. He really didn't like being called by that name." Crouger paused a moment. "I'd say he was in denial, but I don't really know him well enough to make any of those kinds of judgments."

"If you want to know more about him, Crouger, I'd suggest you ask Fukamachi."

"Seems kind of insensitive," Crouger said, turning to look back over his shoulder at Fukamachi. "You didn't see how he reacted."

"I suppose," he allowed. "We're straying from our original intent, though." _+Fukamachi, we're going to leave now.+_

_+All right, Agito,+ _the younger boy said, walking up to stand beside Crouger.

"We moving out now?" Crouger asked, cocking his head slightly to the left.

"Yes." _+I trust you already know how to use your Gravity Controller, Crouger. We will be conducting an aerial assault on this facility; they have very few Arial-type Zoanoids to oppose us, so things will be simpler this way.+_

_+So I guess you're the leader of this little resistance?+_ Crouger's mental tone sounded rather wry.

_+Were you expecting Fukamachi to have that responsibility?+_

_+Honestly? No – the guy's not really cut out for something like that. He's not really that good in a fight, even. I mean, he's clearly got some experience with it all, but he's just not all that aware of what you have to do in situations like these. He gets distracted way too easily.+_

_+You've been thinking about this,+ _he said, pleased to note that Crouger was not as oblivious as Fukamachi.

While the younger Guyver did have his uses, his naiveté and stupidity in combat were aggravating in the extreme to deal with on a regular basis. Crouger seemed enough like himself in temperament that he would not mind working with the boy outside of a combat situation. Still, it remained to be seen if the youngest of their group could be pragmatic enough to fully accept what was to come – what they were going to have to do to defeat Chronos entirely.

Perhaps the gray Guyver could even be useful to the long-term plans that he was slowly putting into place, but all of that remained to be seen. For now, he had to focus on the destruction of the Chronos base in this city. It was fairly minor: no direct oversight from the Zoalord commander of this Section, and likely very few combat capable Zoanoids. The base would be easy pickings for the three of them.

_+Fukamachi, you enter through the right side of the building; the schematics I had access to indicate that the staff quarters and scientific divisions are in that area of the building. Crouger and I will deal with the Zoanoids.+_

_+All right, Agito.+_

As Fukamachi subtly reoriented his flightpath, he turned his attention to Crouger. _+Stay close to me; we're going to be encountering a fair amount of resistance on our way in.+_

_+I'll keep that in mind.+_

_+Good.+_

Now it was time to see just how useful Crouger was going to be to his future plans.

XxXxXxX

Agito seemed like a fairly decent guy from what he had seen so far – a bit more… well, not really macho, but tough. He seemed like he'd been around the block at least once; of course, he also seemed like there was a lot he didn't want people to know about him, but that was true about a lot of tough guys. Maybe he had a tragic past or something.

Once they'd reached the roof of the Brant building – or Chronos; whichever it was called – he turned back to Agito. Before he could make even the lamest attempt at conversation, though, they were crashing in through the ceiling. It was a suitably dramatic entrance, but if the Zoanoids here were as tough as the ones he'd faced out in the street, there were going to be some seriously unpleasant consequences for using it.

Especially if Johnny the Homicidal Maniac – a.k.a. Imakarum – was around to see them do it.

Everyone in the building had to know they were coming in, especially with the alarms that he could hear blaring over the sounds of falling plaster, wood, and assorted building materials. Even the sounds of running feet didn't manage to cover the wailing noise, but it did let him know that they were going to be dealing with some serious opposition soon. Sho'd already headed off to do whatever Agito had told him to, so that just left him and the man himself.

"It's Guyver Three!" one of the lizard-looking Zoanoids shouted. "And there's another one with him!"

_+Are they always this dramatic?+_

_+I don't know what you mean, Crouger.+_

_+They're practically screaming in our faces, and you're telling me you don't know what I'm talking about?+ _he asked, only slightly more weirded-out by the calm attitude of the guy he was fighting beside than the screaming Zoanoids.

He'd seen them before, after all.

_+All Zoanoids fear the Guyvers,+ _he said, sounding like he thought anyone should know that.

_+I guess that makes sense,+ _he said, more to himself. _Considering what we can do to the things, I don't really blame 'em._

The sudden feeling of big, heavy _things_ coming towards them – he could feel their footfalls through the floor, but the weirdest part was that he could _see_ them even though he knew his head was pointed in the wrong direction – made him turn around, just as a large group of really buff-looking Zoanoids stomped into the room.

_+Heads up; we're about to have some more company.+_

_+Hyper Zoanoids,+ _Agito said, sounding only mildly annoyed, and this in spite of the fact that these new bad guys were huge; one of them looked like a humanoid porcupine on some seriously badass steroids. _+Damn.+_

_+You mind explaining what those are?+_

_+There's no time to go into detail now, Crouger,+ _he said, and Ryan only just managed to stop himself from telling the guy just how obvious _that_ little piece of information was. _+Suffice it to say that these are more powerful than any Standard Zoanoid.+_

_+You know, that was all you really had to say,+ _he said.

Agito didn't say anything in return, but Ryan figured he'd gotten his point across. The porcupine-from-hell-on-steroids looked from him to Agito and back again, then evidently decided he wanted to pick on the new guy. The next thing Ryan knew, he'd been slammed through what felt like at _least _a couple walls and bashed right through one of the floors.

_+Crouger! Are you well?+_

_+Me? Hell, I'm just fine,+ _he shot back, rolling out of the way as the steroidal porcupine tried to stomp and impale him. _+I'm having the time of my fucking _life_ here. There's this giant hell-beast that wants to use me as his own personal punching bag, I pretty much gave up my entire life to fight in some crazy-ass war, and now I'm lost in the Brant building with things that look like they eat steel plating for breakfast. Things just couldn't be better!+_

There was no answer from his taciturn counterpart, but then he'd really just been venting. It wasn't like he could expect one for something like that, especially from this guy, since he seemed pretty close-mouthed.

About then, he noticed the fact that he was surrounded by more of those scientist-types. Most of them were staring at him, looking like they weren't quite sure whether they wanted to start screaming, or if they were going to try and beg for their lives, though if these guys were anything like the jerks he'd run into before, he'd take serious pleasure in scaring them out of their tiny little minds. Whether he'd kill them or not was still up in the air. He didn't have so many problems with killing Zoanoids – even if they _had_ been human at one point, they weren't now, and they _were _the ones trying to kill him – but these guys weren't trying to do anything to him. Even if some of them were jerks, there were rules that had to be followed even in combat.

But there would be time for second-guessing and things like that later. Right now he had a Hyper Zoanoid in front of him that needed beating down, if only to keep the thing from beating down on _him_.

That battle was mercifully short – the guy seemed to be all about brute power, so it was pretty simple to get out of his range and get behind him. Cracking his head open with the Pressure Cannon was easy enough after that.

"Wh-what are you doing here, Guyver? Why have you come?" asked one of the scientists, a guy with brown eyes and slightly graying hair, obviously trying to sound brave.

"Me?" he asked, pointing a thumb at himself, all the while laughing mentally – ever since he'd heard a line a few years back on Movie Night, he'd been looking for a good chance to use it. He'd had a few, but there were few better places to use it than here. "I'm here to kick ass and chew bubblegum. And I didn't bring any bubblegum."

Okay, so he'd paraphrased a bit, but he could see from the looks on their faces that he'd gotten his point across.


	43. Learning Curve

The sound of hissing and screeching from behind him, combined with the weirdly giddy looks on the faces of most of the men in white coats – and some of the women, too – gave him the feeling that there was something bad coming up behind him. Turning around with a certain amount of trepidation (he wasn't stupid enough to think that something bad would just go away if it was ignored, but no sane person was _eager_ to look their own destruction in the face) he saw the large group of insect-headed _things_ coming for him at a run.

This was, in the words of Egon Spengler, very bad.

Running before even one of them could get within punching – or stabbing; those giant crab-leg looking pinchers on their backs gave him the heebies – range, he was very unpleasantly surprised to see one of them spitting at him. He didn't know quite what they were doing, other than something his Grandma would have washed his mouth out with soap for, right up to the point where the stuff splattered all over the floor. Apparently it was some sort of acid. Some sort of _really strong_ acid_._ Some sort of really strong acid that was _melting through the goddamn floor and oh my god I am so fucking fucked right now!_

"Well…" He couldn't think of anything really witty to say; imagine that. "Bye now!"

Running like the hounds of hell were snapping at his heals, which probably wasn't far off the mark considering what these things could do, Ryan careened out of the room and into a hallway. Shouting a mix of taunts and swearwords at the Zoanoids that were pursuing him, and finishing up by yelling at them to "kiss my armor-plated butt!" Ryan kept running. When the shower of corrosive enzymatic fluid that he had just narrowly dodged finally registered in his conscious mind, Ryan had the thought that maybe, just maybe, it hadn't been one of his better ideas to tell that to a group composed mostly of acid-spitting bug-headed Zoanoids.

Jumping out of the way of another shower of acid spit, Ryan looked in front of himself, trying to see if there were any more Zoanoids up ahead. What he saw looked almost like a pair of steel double-doors. Grinning, Ryan poured on more speed, knowing just what it was that he was looking at: the entrance to an elevator. Or at least to an elevator shaft.

Once he had reached the elevator doors, Ryan had to again avoid a spray of enzymatic fluid. The acid that had been aimed at his head instead hit the doors of the elevator he was standing in front of. There was now a hole corroded through the elevator doors, but Ryan could be glad of the fact that the hole wasn't at hand-height. Forcing his armored fingers into the seam between the doors, Ryan braced himself. Grunting with the effort – even to a Guyver these doors were hard to move – Ryan planted his feet and forced the doors open with a final surge of bio-boosted muscles. Jumping into the shaft, he looked around for the elevator that he knew had to be in there somewhere. There was nothing below him, so Ryan turned his gaze upward. And there, a fair amount of distance above him, was the elevator he had been looking for.

He was just starting to concentrate so he could fly up to the elevator when three bug people buzzed into the elevator shaft below him. _Oh _hell_ no, just the kind of bugs I didn't want to deal with!_

_+Crouger, is there a problem?+_

_Speaking of things I didn't want to deal with,_ Ryan grumbled internally. _+What would give you that idea, Agito?+_

_+There was a sudden burst of frustration, and what might have best been described as apprehension, coming through your Guyver-link.+_

While Ryan took a minute to process what Agito had just said, one of the bug people spat a stream of corrosive fluid up at him that he just barely managed to dodge.

_+I'll talk to you later, okay?+_

No answer was forthcoming from Agito, so Ryan turned his attention back to the three Galma that were giving him trouble. _Really big flies need a really big flyswatter,_ Ryan laughed to himself as he looked back up at the elevator that he was slowly coming closer. He could also hear the Galma coming closer, and he didn't like that sound one bit. One of them spat at him again, and Ryan quickly made himself as scarce as he could in the narrow elevator shaft. Finally getting sick of dodging acid spit, Ryan decided to go on the offensive.

"Stop bugging me!" Ryan shouted, firing the Head Beam at the pursuing Zoanoids.

Two of them managed to dodge, but the third one wasn't so lucky. It took Ryan's blast right in the forehead. The infrared laser split open the Zoanoid's head straight down the middle, killing it instantly. The remains of the third Galma dissolved as they fell, becoming nothing more than biological ooze before they had reached the halfway point of the shaft.

_+Crouger, are you having a problem?+_

_+Look, Agito, I'm currently dealing with a pair of really annoying bug-guys. So why don't you check in later?+ _There was no answer from Agito, so Ryan figured that Guyver III had gotten the message.

Looking at the elevator coming swiftly into view above him, Ryan grinned. _This could do some serious damage to those oversized, acid-spitting bug things. _Looking at the bottom of the elevator, Ryan willed his Guyver to show him where the emergency brakes were. _If I remember _Speed_ correctly, elevators have at least two emergency brakes, maybe more. Okay, so here's hoping that there really _are _only two._

Kicking out with his right foot, Ryan smashed the right brake into little pieces. Turning to look at the one on the left, Ryan fired two shots from his Head Beam. The blasts melted the left brake into useless slag. _Okay, so now I have to take care of the cables at the top._ Looking up again, Ryan focused his thoughts on the gravity controller imbedded in the Guyver's waist. Feeling the force of gravity that was trying to pull him down, Ryan used the gravity controller to selectively invert it, pushing him upwards. Straight into the base of the elevator. Ducking his head slightly, Ryan rammed his way through the floor of the elevator, not caring much if anyone was inside when he crashed through.

Now on top of what remained of the elevator car, Ryan quickly severed the cables with his Vibro-blades. Hovering, he watched the car fall, hoping that neither of the two flying Galma would be able to fit though the hole he had made. But as it turned out, the elevator knocked both Galma unconscious before it pounded them into the floor. Ryan laughed to himself._ Well, that was fun._

_+What happened to the Galma?+_

Ryan chuckled aloud this time. _+That's what they're called? Well, I squashed them, that's what.+_

This time, Agito's telepathic voice held a fair amount of skepticism. _+And how did you squash them, exactly?+_

_+I dropped an elevator on the things,+_ Ryan answered, his obvious satisfaction coming though loud and clear.

_+Crouger, I like the way you think,+_ Agito sent back.

_+Thanks for the vote of confidence, Agito. And I told you already, call me Ryan.+_

Ryan listened, but Agito didn't answer. _+So, how goes your part of the mission?+ _he asked at last.

_+Fairly well, so far. Most of the Chronos personnel are too preoccupied with the damage you're doing to worry about the other parts of the facility,+_ Agito said.

_+That's good to know,+_ Ryan nodded. _+I'm glad that my little demolition derby is of at least _some_ use to you guys.+_

Nothing more was forthcoming from Agito, so Ryan focused back on his own mission: causing massive havoc and chaos for Chronos. A wall exploded inward under the force of the Pressure Cannon, and Ryan followed that up with a volley of blasts from the Head Beam. He wasn't going to use the Mega-Smasher, not in a relatively minor skirmish like this.

But with Zoanoids popping up around every corner, it was hard not to be tempted. Kicking a Ramochis hard enough that it flew backwards into a group of Gregole, Ryan laughed at the resulting pileup. Then he finished them all off with a couple blasts from the Pressure Cannon. Racing through the dissolving Zoanoid parts, Ryan snapped off some more shots from his Head Beam at anything else that moved.


	44. Your friend, My friend

Far away from where Ryan was carving a wide path of destruction through the aboveground levels, Agito Makashima and Sho Fukamachi – Guyvers III and I respectively – were making their way to the main computer system of the Chronos Denver branch. Their objective was nothing less than the complete destruction of that system. Both of them knew that the data concerning Guyver V had more than likely been transferred to every other branch of Chronos that existed, so they weren't here to try and do anything about that. Sho thought that it was good to have someone else to help fight Chronos, but he couldn't help wondering whether Ryan knew just what he was getting into when he joined their battle.

Sho didn't want anyone else to get hurt by Chronos the way he had been hurt. He hoped that he would be able to protect Ryan, or at least help the other boy to escape some of the horrors that Sho had been through.

__

+Fukamachi, we're almost there.+

+Good. I don't want to spend any more time in these cramped vents than I have to.+

+Remember, Fukamachi, we still have to dispose of the processing tanks.+

+Yeah, I remember+ Sho sighed.

As they made their way through the vents, crawling on their hands and knees, Sho hoped that they would be able to leave the confines of the air vents sooner rather than later. Agito may have been right about the air ducts being the safest mode of access to the lower levels of Chronos, but they weren't exactly easy on the nerves. Sho was only glad that he wasn't claustrophobic—dealing with a rampant fear of small spaces on top of the uneasiness he was already feeling at being surrounded by Chronos agents, probably most of whom were Zoanoids in human form, would not be at all pleasant. For Agito or Sho himself.

Agito looked out through one of the ventilation grilles, tracking their progress as he had been doing ever since they had entered the ventilation system. They had almost reached their destination; in fact, they were only one room away from the main computer system for Chronos Denver.

__

+Fukamachi, be ready.+

+All right, Agito. I will be.+

Agito nodded to himself, as the two of them made their way through the vents. There hadn't been any contact from Crouger, not since the other Guyver had reported that he was finished dealing with the Galma that had attacked him. But, given the fact that he could still hear the sounds of mass destruction coming from above them, Agito knew that it was safe to surmise that Guyver V was still fighting.

This new Guyver had been a surprise for Agito, and the Dark Guyver hated dealing with surprises—unless he had been the one to plan them, of course. Seeing him in action, rather than easing Agito's worries, had actually made them worse. Crouger was strong, and more than that he was wary. There was none of the naïveté that had made Fukamachi such an effective pawn in this new Guyver. That was a potential problem, but it could be worked around given enough time. Right now, the current situation was enough to occupy Agito's thoughts. He would deal with Crouger later.

They had finally arrived at the room that housed the main computer, and both Guyvers were more than ready to start doing some damage of their own. Kicking out the vent cover, Agito leapt down to the floor. There was currently no one in the room, but Agito knew that that would change once he and Fukamachi started attacking. Fukamachi took his time, but he was soon standing on the floor next to Agito.

"Bio-Boost!" Agito called, feeling the Guyver's pressure field surround him.

"Guyver!" Sho yelled.

Soon, Guyvers I and III were standing side-by-side in the as yet empty computer room.

"Fukamachi, follow me!"

Leaping at the nearest bank of computers, Guyver III extended both of the Vibration Blades on his right arm. Slashing downward, he cleaved the large machine in half as if he was slicing through a warm stick of butter. Guyver I was right behind him, firing his Pressure Cannon into the banks of computers on his right, just behind where Guyver III was working on the others. The alarms began to blare, and both Guyvers knew that it wouldn't be long before they were surrounded by Zoanoids.

__

+Crouger, are you there?+

+Yeah. What's the what?+

+We're going to be needing your help soon+ Agito said, after he had managed to intuit the meaning of Ryan's strange question.

__

+That's good. It was starting to get a little too quiet in my area.+

+Come as soon as you are able+ Agito said flatly.

__

+On my way+ Crouger said cheerfully.

Turning his attention back to the battle, Guyver III smashed another computer bank into shrapnel. That was when the Zoanoids started to arrive. Five Gregole, five Vamore, and six Ramochis came running into the room in single file. The first three Zoanoids to make it into the room were cut down by Guyver I's Vibration Blades. The others, Agito saw, were starting to fall to someone who was attacking from behind, and he had a feeling that he knew who it was.

"Outta my way, boys, I'm coming through!"

And, with several slashes from his Vibration Blades, Guyver V did just that.

"Crouger, do you know that you tend to say the strangest things?"

"Can we not talk about that right now?"

Two punches, a flurry of kicks, a few swipes from the Vibro-blades, and a three-shot barrage from the Pressure Cannon cleared most of the room. But more Zoanoids quickly rushed in to fill the void left by their dead brethren, and the three Guyvers made themselves ready for the next wave of the battle. There were more Vamore in this group, but there was also another breed of Zoanoid that none of the three Guyvers had seen before.

They looked like huge, bipedal wolves, tall and broad with thick, shaggy grayish-blue fur. Their long teeth and claws clearly marked them as warrior Zoanoids. These were Alvix model Zoanoids, created by Ingriam Mirabilis at Cloud Tower not all that long ago. However, the three Guyvers who were now fighting against them had no way of knowing that. All they knew or cared about was the fact that there were more obstacles for them to destroy.

The Alvix had about the same level of strength as a Gregole and was almost as heavily armored, but what made it more dangerous was its speed. It was this very speed that was giving Alvix the advantage in this battle. Since they were already being attacked by waves of other Zoanoids, the Alvix models were able to take full advantage of their augmented speed.

Their claws cut into the armor of the attacking Guyvers, distracting them at just the moments when the trio would have to be the most focused. With the Alvixs providing a distraction, the Vamore, Gregole, and Ramochis were able to avoid almost all of the attacks that the three Guyvers were making against them.

__

+Damnit!+ Agito swore over the Guyver-link. _+This is starting to get very annoying.+_

+I'll second that+ Ryan said. _+You have any idea what we might be able to do about it?+_

+I would suggest that we all use the Mega-Smasher, but there would be no way to charge it without these Zoanoids knowing about it+ Agito said.

__

+Yeah. And, there's also the fact that the Mega-Smasher would probably end up bringing the roof down on top of us. Not like we'd be hurt or anything by that, but it would be kind of annoying to have to dig ourselves out of that much rubble.+

+Yes, that too would be inconvenient for us+ Agito said, as they began to mix it up with the Zoanoids again.

Sho grabbed one of the Ramochis by the head and threw it at the wolflike Zoanoid that was coming up to attack him. The new type of Zoanoid proved to be fast enough to dodge the flying body of its fellow Zoanoid, though. Sho cursed under his breath as it came at him again, claws up and ready to stab or slice.

Then the Zoanoid's head exploded, blown off from behind by a shot from Ryan's Pressure Cannon.

__

+Thank you, Ryan.+

+Not a problem, Sho.+

Another Alvix came charging at Sho, but Ryan got behind it and stabbed it in the neck with his wrist-mounted Vibration Blade.

__

+I guess if they can't see you, they can't dodge+ Ryan nodded to himself.

__

+That makes sense.+

With this in mind, Sho and Ryan attempted to keep out of the Alvixs' sight and attack them from behind. This was made slightly harder by all of the remaining Zoanoids, but since those were also being whittled down by Guyver III, there wasn't as much of a problem as there might have been otherwise. Ryan plowed through a small but persistent knot of Vamore, scattering them like bowling pins. Another Alvix jumped out at him, and Ryan crushed its head with a punch. Meanwhile, Agito was having it out with another small knot of Gregole that were guarding the single remaining computer bank. He wanted those computers destroyed, since he had never liked to leave a job halfway done, and no matter what else happened to him, Agito was going to finish the task that he had set for himself.

Smashing one of the Gregole's heads with a shot from his Pressure Cannon, Agito dodged around the clawed hand of another as it came at him. Slicing that one to pieces with his Vibration Blades, Agito saw one of the Gregole's chests explode from the blast of another Guyver's Pressure Cannon. Looking over at just who had come to his aid, Agito saw Crouger standing with his right hand up, palm out and fingers splayed.

"It looks like you could use some help there," Guyver V said.

"Thank you," Agito acknowledged.


	45. Only Way Out

Not taking the time to watch as the other Guyver cut his attackers to pieces with his Vibration Blades, Agito killed the two remaining Gregole that stood between him and the last of Chronos' main computers. The few backups that existed in this facility would of course be taken care of, but right now these were the most important. Blowing the last of Chronos Denver's computer mainframes into shrapnel with a blast from his Pressure Cannon, Agito turned around.

He saw that Fukamachi and Crouger had managed to eliminate the last of the Zoanoids while he had been disposing of the last of the main computers. Crouger was looking around, evidently prepared for any other Zoanoids that might try to come after them, as more no doubt would. It was a prudent thing for the other Guyver to be doing, and Agito found his regard for Crouger increasing slightly. The boy may have been an annoying random factor in his plans, but at least Crouger had the intelligence to be a help rather than a hindrance in their battle. Still, his intelligence and tenacity could just as easily prove to be an obstacle for his future plans. Agito knew that it was still best for him to wait and watch to see if Crouger would present any weaknesses that he could exploit. Everyone had a weakness; it was just a matter of finding it.

But for now there were more important things for him to think about than how to deal with Crouger. This branch of Chronos still had a few things inside it that needed to be destroyed before the three Guyvers could leave this place.

__

+Fukamachi, Crouger, follow me to the lower levels. We will destroy the processing-tanks now.+

+Right behind you, big man.+

+Yes, Agito.+

Blasting a hole in the floor with the Pressure Cannon, Agito leaped through the hole and landed on the lower level. Concentrating on the Gravity Controller, he slammed his way through the floor below him with his feet. He could, through his Guyver's hyper-sensors, sense the presence of Guyver I and Guyver V just above him. Agito knew the standard layout of every Chronos building, and by extension he knew just how many levels he was going to have to get through before he made it to the processing labs.

It would take a while for them to reach the lower levels this way, but the added destruction they were inflicting on Chronos Denver was all the more reason for them to take this route. Agito slammed feet-first through another floor, followed quickly by the two other Guyvers. They fell past squadrons of Zoanoids—Zoanoids who had to have known where the Guyvers were ultimately going.

Once they had seen the three Guyvers pass them by, they turned quickly and headed for the nearest flight of stairs. There was no point in standing around and waiting for an elevator when each of them had far more stamina than a human could ever hope to have. Besides that, there was a better than average chance that the Guyvers had already destroyed all of the elevators.

They were now almost at the level where the processing-tanks were set up, and Agito was feeling the same kind of cold, calm fury that he always had when he was confronting the lower soldiers of Chronos. There were only two floors between the three Guyvers and the processing division, then one as Agito smashed his way through the floor. And then the three Guyvers stood inside the processing division.

__

+There are three levels of processing-tanks in this branch. We will be able to destroy them with ease.+

+Roger wilco+ Ryan said.

Sho smashed his way through two floors, dropping to the third level of Chronos Denver's processing division. Agito took the first floor, which naturally left Ryan with the second. To Sho, the Zoanoids within the processing-tanks were strange and unfamiliar to him. They looked a bit smaller than Chronos' other stock. But, given how much time he had spent in that strange cocoon, the one that Agito had said was made from the remains of the Relic, it could have been possible that Chronos had developed new Zoanoid types.

XxXxXxX

Ryan, since he didn't know all that much about Zoanoid types despite sharing headspace with Sho in that mondo-bizarro cocoon for who knew how long, didn't see anything special about these Zoanoids. They were just more targets for the Pressure Cannon as far as he was concerned. Without another thought, Ryan began charging the aforementioned gravity weapon. Stepping back from the processing-tanks to give himself a clearer shot, Ryan fired. The blast shattered two of the tanks entirely and caused those on either side of them to shake violently. Charging up the Pressure Cannon again, Ryan turned his sights to the other processing-tanks in the room.

XxXxXxX

Agito also saw the rows of strangely underdeveloped Zoanoids, but, being Agito, he couldn't have cared less—they were merely targets to the Dark Guyver. Extending both sets of Vibration Blades, Agito started to calmly destroy both the processing-tanks and their unconscious occupants. When all of the processing-tanks in his area had been taken care of, Agito contacted Fukamachi and Crouger, wanting to know how their parts of the mission had gone.

__

+Things are all done on my end+ Crouger reported.

__

+I'm all done now, Agito+ Fukamachi reported, just a few seconds after Crouger.

__

+Good. Now follow me, we're leaving.+

+No arguments on my end, big man.+

Ignoring the inane answer that he had received from Crouger, Agito fired two more shots from the Pressure Cannon and then reactivated his Gravity Controller. As his feet slammed through the floors of the Chronos building, Agito saw Fukamachi and Crouger following him into the lowest levels. There were sewer accesses in that area, and Agito knew that those were their most promising avenue of escape. The sewers were not the most pleasant of escape routes, however they were one of the few leading out of the Chronos buildings that were not monitored in any fashion. The only other way was the air vents. However, it would have taken too much work to lose the Zoanoid patrols that were doubtless after them—that, and the fact that they were too large in Guyver-form to be able to escape through the vents.

Once the three of them had managed to outpace the Zoanoid teams that were no doubt tracking them, Agito landed on one of the lower levels, then turned to Crouger and Fukamachi.

__

+From here, we will need to be careful not to make ourselves conspicuous. Deactivate your Guyver units and follow me. I know a great deal of ways to escape from these kinds of facilities unobserved.+

+Sure thing, big man.+

+Yes, Agito.+

Agito watched as Crouger and Fukamachi dismissed their Guyver units before dismissing his own, since it would have been a tacit admission of weakness for him to be seen de-transforming first. Once the three of them were back in their human forms, Agito wordlessly led them down into the lower levels of the Chronos Denver building.

XxXxXxX

Ryan almost thought it was funny, the fact that they'd been running rampant through a Chronos base only to have to sneak out through the back door somewhere. Not that he didn't agree with the need to get the hell out of Dodge without being spotted and beaten on by irate Zoanoids; he'd had more than his share of that, thank you very much.

And there were probably more of those allegedly specially processed Galma just waiting for the three of them to show up somewhere else. At least, Ryan figured that those things had been specially processed, since Sho had told him that Galma didn't spit acid. Moving through the lower hallways of the Chronos building, trying to be as quiet as he could, Ryan got to see a bit more of Agito's personality. So far, he hadn't really been impressed. Still, there _had_ been some serious fighting going on, and he was still coming down off the high that it had caused for him. Maybe ol' Agito was just a hardass when he'd gotten done with a big fight. Ryan wasn't quite sure if that was the truth, but it was as good an explanation as he could come up with since he didn't know the guy very well. At least it was one that didn't make him want to punch the guy in the face.

As they walked softly down the infrequently used back stairs of the Chronos Denver building, Ryan looked around. The stairs were lit only by dull green lights placed at the top and bottom of the flights. It did give the whole place a suitably creepy air, but Ryan couldn't help thinking that that wasn't really why the back stairs were lit so badly. Agito _had_ said that Zoanoids had better senses than any human, so the Chronos guys were probably just trying to save money on electricity. After all, there wasn't really any need for them to waste the money on extra lights if most of them could see in the dark anyway.

Crossing his arms behind his head, Ryan stretched to work the kinks out of his muscles. He hadn't really had the chance to think about what his decision to throw in his lot with these guys would really mean for him, but he was starting to appreciate it now. From how Sho had acted at his house to how Agito and Sho were acting right now, it meant that he'd never really be safe again. Basically he'd stepped into a Terminator movie, but without Skynet or the killer cyborgs.

It was going to take a bit of getting used to, especially since he wasn't sure yet if Agito was really as much of a bastard as he was in this little dust-up, but then this was what had happened. There really wasn't anything he could do about the situation but adapt now that he'd fully pissed off Chronos by helping to blow the hell out of one of their bases. Of course there _was_ always the option of going into hiding.

With the Guyver's power to fly, he could hide out in a lot of places that normal people couldn't even get to. Then again, he'd seen that there were Zoanoids that could fly almost as well as he could now, so there went that idea. They didn't seem to be quite as maneuverable as his Guyver; still, there was no point in borrowing trouble. He already had enough of that as it was.


	46. Enmity Mine

When the three of them made it to the bottom of the stairways—_all_ of the freakin' stairways—Ryan leaned back against the wall and waited for Agito to make up his mind about where they were going to go next. Since Ryan himself knew pretty much dick-all about the inner workings of Chronos bases, he was content to let Agito lead them out of this particular little hellhole, even if they guy _was_ acting a little too uptight for his taste. It could all just be from the stress, and Ryan was going to at least try to give the guy the benefit of all possible doubt. At least until Mr. Agito Makashima proved himself one way or the other, that was.

Looking over at Sho again, Ryan watched the other boy make his way over to the wall and lean against it. Sho was the kind of person he could relate to more easily: there was no having to guess if what he was seeing was the real deal or some kind of act when he was dealing with the guy. Still, the fact that'd he'd known Sho a lot longer than he had Agito might have had more to do with how easy it was to relate to him.

"Crouger, Fukamachi, follow me. I have found one of the sewer accesses for this building."

"_Imagine_ my joy," Ryan drawled, rolling his eyes.

"Would you prefer to try and fight your way out through all the Zoanoids inside this building?" Agito asked, more snappishly than he needed to as far as Ryan was concerned.

"Duh, _no_." Ryan shook his head, resisting the urge to roll his eyes again. "But you _can't _expect me to enjoy walking into a dark place filled with rats, crud vapors, and things that aren't polite to talk about in mixed company."

"This is the most expedient way to exit the facility," Agito said, eyes narrowing slightly.

"You know, you're the only guy I've met that would use 'expedient' in a casual conversation," Ryan observed, waking up to the sewer access.

Agito ignored him, but Ryan truthfully hadn't been expecting any other response. Sho seemed to find the observation a bit funny, so Ryan winked at him. It was good to know that he had at least one guy he could understand in this mess with him. Agito's attitude was starting to grate on him; the guy was just too damn uptight. As he picked his way carefully into the sewer, Sho following close behind, Ryan made up his mind that he would at least _try_ to get Mr. Agito Makashima to loosen up before passing judgment on him. It was always a good idea to give someone you'd just met the benefit of all possible doubt.

He'd been dead on the mark about one thing, though: there were some _seriously_ nasty crud vapors down these tunnels. They would have probably been a good way to dissuade any of those wolf-looking Zoanoids from following them; those things probably had a sense of smell that was at least as good as a dog's, and this place was _rank_. Ryan was just glad that _he_ didn't have an enhanced sense of smell. Walking through this stink-hole, while it _was_ a very good way of keeping all the Zoanoids in the building from trying to follow them back to wherever the hell they were going, wasn't at all pleasant to be in.

Ryan knew he was harping on the sheer nastiness of the place he was currently walking through, but he honestly couldn't care less. It was a fucking _sewer_, for Christ's sake—if he couldn't bitch about being forced to walk through a sewer, then there wasn't much to say. Not that he was really _saying_ anything, aside from the words in his head. And he wouldn't be saying anything anytime soon, since he really didn't want to breathe any more of the disgusting air down here than was strictly necessary.

He was starting to get a bit antsy, though, a little jittery, the way he always did when there was tension in the air. He was also starting to get a bit queasy from all the vile-smelling fumes he was currently breathing in. All things considered, Ryan Crouger really wasn't at his most clear-headed. What he did next was therefore understandable to someone who knew him; Agito, however, didn't have the benefits of such knowledge.

"Can we get out of here now? I don't really think they're going to be looking for us anymore, and if I have to spend much longer down here I _know_ I'm going to throw up on someone's shoes."

"Control yourself, Crouger," Mr. Agito Makashima said, with just the right amount of condescension to set Ryan in his already-volatile mood off.

"Look, your Supreme Assholishness, _you_ might be able to block out all the nasty smells in this place, but _some_ of us down here are normal. Now I want _out_ of this hellish little stinkhole, or I'm going to start getting _really_ cranky."

"Save your energy for walking, Crouger."

__

That was the last straw. Two large steps forward put Ryan squarely behind Agito, and before the other boy could react, Ryan shoved him hard in the right side. Unable to balance himself properly after such a completely unexpected attack, Ryan's second shove was able to send him toppling into the fetid water on the left side of the raised walkway they'd been following.

For about a second, the filthy water was still, only the gentle ripples remaining as evidence that it had been disturbed. Then Agito, soaked and dripping scummy filth from his clothes and hair, surged back to the surface. The fact that he was spitting out something gave Ryan the impression that he'd stupidly opened his mouth when he'd hit, or when he was under all that cruddy water. Either way, it was pretty funny.

Funny enough that Ryan just had to laugh.

"You're _completely_ aware that you look like a drowned rat, right?" Ryan said, laughing both at the disgruntled expression that Mr. Agito Makashima was now turning on him and at the sewer-water that was dripping from every part of his body.

"Crouger!"

"Yeah, that's my _last_ name, Chachi," Ryan drawled, smirking at the boy currently glaring at him. "You wanna try pronouncing my first, for a change?"

With an inarticulate roar, Agito dove at him. Ryan, laughing dodged his first punch, and followed up with one of his own. Slamming his fist into Agito's stomach, nearly knocking the older boy back into the fetid water, Ryan grinned.

"You might wanna watch who you're pissing off, Goth-boy," Ryan needled, smirking. "I don't think you're on very stable footing right now."

"Crouger-"

"I _have _a first name, you know," Ryan drawled, mildly annoyed.

Still, the fact that Agito – Mr. Annoying himself – was practically a hair's breadth away from taking another dunk in the sewer water was enough to amuse Ryan to the point where he didn't quite care just what the other Guyver was saying. Of course, seeing him flailing around like an idiot was only half as funny as watching him take an unscheduled dunk in the sewer water. And, now that none of them had all that much to take their minds off of how badly this place stunk, Ryan was perfectly willing to try and dunk the bastard again just to keep his mind off that fact.

As Mr. Annoying took a break, either because he'd run out of hot air or because he wanted to see how his fellow Guyver was reacting to what he'd just said, Ryan charged him. Slamming his foot into Agito's gut, Ryan laughed as the jerk overbalanced and fell right back into the sludge. It was starting to matter less and less that he was stuck down here with Goth-boy and his oversized ego. In fact, if he _was_ going to be stuck down here for however the hell long it took for the three of them to get out of this stinking sewer, then he was going to make sure that he had fun for the duration. No matter how much Goth-boy and his titanic ego didn't like it.


	47. Overland Exodus

As they worked to set the Denver branch of Chronos back to rights after the attack by the three Guyvers, Ranza and her group couldn't help but wish that at least one of the Guyvers had been killed during the attack. But no, all three of them had managed to escape into the lower levels of the building while the male Zoanoids had been either confused or killed in the attack.

They could have at least tried to give a good account of themselves during that battle. Still, they _were_ only normal Zoanoids, even if one of the model types had been created by the son of His Excellency Imakarum Mirabilis. There wasn't any real reason to expect more from them than any normal Standard Zoanoid, but would have been very useful to have some actual Hyper Zoanoid personnel stationed here.

But now wasn't the time to think about things that hadn't happened; their job was to clean up this base and restore it to working condition, and that was what they were going to do. As she set aside the last pile of technological rubble, Ranza turned to look at the large hole that had been blown in the floor of the room where she and her fellows were working. She'd heard reports that there were a lot of holes just like this one; now those reports were being confirmed by her very own eyes. Ranza could see that the hole, no doubt made by one of the three Guyvers, extended down through seven levels of the building.

Why it didn't stretch all the way to the bottom was a detail that Ranza didn't need to know to be able to complete her salvage and cleaning duties—a fact that the Zoanoid reminded herself of every time her eyes or thoughts started to wander back to the holes in the various floors. It wasn't important; all that mattered was getting this place back up an running as soon as was feasible.

The sound of someone whistling – calling her and her compatriots to attention – was almost obscenely loud to Ranza's enhanced hearing. Still, that didn't mean she could ignore it just out of spite. Even if the caller _was_ being a jerk, there was always the possibility it was one of her superiors.

"Girls!" Ranza shouted when she noticed that some of them were still standing around instead of being at attention like they should have been.

Even if they _were_ still cleaning up the mess of smashed electronics and other types of debris on the floor, it was more important that they show the proper respect to their superiors. Checking to make sure that all of her fellow Zoanoids were standing at attention the way they should have been in the first place, Ranza turned to the person that had come in to speak with them.

"Is there something any of us can do for you, sir?"

Ranza could now see that the person who had been addressing her was one of the very few Hyper Zoanoids in this area. She could tell by the lapel pin he wore and the way he carried himself. All Hyper Zoanoids had that same basic carriage, that just-waiting-to-take-on-the-world look about them. Ranza supposed it came from being one of Chronos' vaunted elites.

There were times that Ranza wondered just what she looked like to an outsider, but since those kinds of things weren't important to her line of work, she didn't think about them very often. Or for very long.

"I just wanted to make sure you ladies knew that the boss is going to be coming over to make an inspection of this area, so I'd advise that you and your group get to work."

"I'll take that into consideration, sir," Ranza said, trying to be polite. _What the hell do you think we're doing, you stupid asshole?_

Nodding pompously, the Hyper Zoanoid turned and left the room, and Ranza rolled her eyes disgustedly at the place where he'd once been. He might have been one of her superiors, but that didn't mean that he couldn't be an irritating little shit. It only meant that neither she nor any of her girls could actually _call_ him on being an irritating little shit. It was kind of annoying at times, but it was still the way things were.

Turning and heading back into the group of her fellow Zoanoids, Ranza saw that they were all going back to their assigned tasks. They were good soldiers; they knew what they had to do, and they would keep doing it until they were either done or had been issued different orders. Crouching to pick up some more debris – it looked like part of what had once been a server this time – she tossed it into the pile and moved on to the next small junkheap. It was monotonous, to be sure, but it was the job that she had been assigned.

They had somehow managed to make it out of the sewers without any more blood being spilled, though Ryan still had smudges of dried blood beneath his nose, and Agito hadn't yet cleaned all of the blood off of his chin. Sho wasn't quite sure why Agito and Ryan had decided they needed to fight; he didn't know what they had thought they were going to accomplish, but Agito looked even angrier than ever.

That was in direct contrast to Ryan, who _did_ look like he had just accomplished something. Well, at least he looked calmer and happier than Agito did. Agito looked like he would start yelling at the first person who so much as looked at him sideways. Sho was careful to watch Agito out of the corner of his eye—at least when it looked like Agito was going to turn his head and catch him watching.

He was worried about both Ryan and Agito, but for varying reasons. Ryan hadn't seemed like the type of person who could be provoked into a fight that easily, and Agito… well, he had always seemed to have some kind of reserve that made him seem completely untouchable. But Ryan hadn't just touched him; he'd displayed an honestly disturbing willingness to hit him.

Sho hoped that they wouldn't get into any more fights like the one they'd just had. He hoped that Ryan and Agito would be able to work out their differences – whatever they were – because otherwise Chronos would be able to pick them off very easily.

__

+Ryan, why did you attack Agito like that?+

+You really think you want to know that, Sho?+

+Of course I want to know, Ryan. You're my friend.+

+What about Goth-boy there?+ Ryan asked, subtly tilting his head in Agito's direction.

__

+He's a friend, too, Ryan.+

+You mean Goth-boy actually has_ friends? That's a surprise.+_

+Why do you keep calling him that?+

+He wears lots of black, and he's a complete jerk. Hence Goth-boy.+

Agito shepherded them into a nondescript black car, glaring at Ryan while he climbed into the front seat and slammed the door. Ryan rolled his eyes, climbing into the back and settling himself in the seat. Sho climbed in next to Ryan, just as his fellow Guyver slammed the car door and locked it. Buckling his own seatbelt, Sho closed the door and waited for the car to start moving.

__

+Hey, Sho. Do you know why he acts like that?+

+Agito?+

+Yeah, him. Do you know?+

+I'm sorry, Ryan. But I don't really know.+

+You don't care, or you just never asked?+

+I've never asked.+

+And Goth-boy never talks about himself, right?+

+No+ Sho said, realizing that it was true._ +He really doesn't.+_

Ryan lapsed into silence, occasionally looking over at Agito, then looking away as soon as the taller boy noticed him doing it. Sho wondered what they were going to do when they made it back to the safehouse that had been prepared for them, since Ryan obviously had some sort of problem with Agito, something that had lead to him starting a fight with the other Guyver.

He hoped the three of them would still be able to work together; they needed all the power they could gather to be able to take on Chronos and win. And… to avenge Mr. Murakami and his son. Turning away from the others, not wanting to make them worry about him, Sho closed his eyes and leaned his head against the window. The others still didn't know what had happened to Mr. Murakami.

He was glad to be going home again, but the fact was that he would have to tell the others what had happened to Mr. Murakami; otherwise… he might be able to hurt them. The same way that he had tried to hurt him; the way he would have succeeded if it hadn't been for Ryan. For all the danger that his presence would bring them, he was really looking forward to seeing Mizuki again—her and Tetsuro and all the others. He wondered how Mr. Hayami and his fellow scientists were doing. They had to be happy to have escaped Chronos the way they did. They were all free now, and that had to mean a lot to them. Turning to look back at Ryan, he found that the other Guyver had settled back into his seat and was watching the passing scenery with a half-lidded gaze.

__

+Ryan, are you tired?+

+Well, that and kinda bored. It's been a long day, and I'm not just referring to the parts where I had to mix it up with Chronos.+


	48. Reflective Days

The weary annoyance in Ryan's voice gave some hint of how much the day had affected him, and Sho wished there was something he could do. Ryan had done so much for him, and it was only fair that he try to help the other boy in any way he could. It was all he could do, after he had all but asked Ryan to give up his home and family all for the sake of their fight against Chronos.

__

+Don't worry, Ryan. We'll be back home soon. And then you can meet my friends. I'm sure they'll like you; they're all good people.+

+Do any of them actually speak English, or am I going to have to rely on you as a translator for a change?+

+I think Tetsuro might be able to speak enough English to be able to communicate with you. And Agito, of course.+

+Well, we'll leave him and his issues aside for now. Who's Tetsuro, by the way?+

+Sorry+ he said, wincing slightly. _+I keep forgetting that you don't know the people I do. Tetsuro's one of my friends. We knew each other even before I found the Guyver, and he's been with me through everything.+_

+Well, that sounds like a good deal. I'm glad you had someone with you. No offense, but you really don't seem like the type who could go it alone.+

+Why would you think I'd get offended by that, Ryan?+

+Some people don't like what I have to say, is all.+

That was all he could get Ryan to say about that, though, since the red-haired Guyver turned, folded his arms, and closed his eyes. He was leaning back in the seat and looking for all the world like he was asleep. When the car pulled to a stop, and Sho gently woke Ryan up.

__

+So, where are we headed now?+

+I don't really know.+

"Agito, why are we stopping here?"

"We need to change transports," Agito said flatly, turning and leaving the truck that they had been riding in. "There is a chance that Chronos agents were able to track our original vehicle. I would rather not take the chance of them finding out where we are going and being able to track us."

Put that way, it sounded like a very reasonable plan.

__

+We're changing cars so Chronos won't be able to follow us.+

+Well, that's a good idea.+

Watching for a moment as Ryan stretched and yawned, he quickly turned his attention back to watching where they were going. Agito's precautions in taking different cars would all be for nothing if Chronos spotted them while they were outside.

Aptom had left some time ago, claiming boredom and a need to go hunting for more food. To think that there was actually a _Zoanoid_ who subsisted on the bodies of his fellow Zoanoids. No wonder Dr. Balkus hated him and wanted him dead—all of Chronos' Zoanoids were just meals on legs as far as he was concerned. This had been made very clear from the way he referred to them during their many conversations.

Aptom was… someone that could have been a friend, Tetsuro thought. That is, if he could ever be persuaded to give up his vendetta against Sho. But it was pretty obvious that that wasn't really likely to happen. Not without something drastic provoking that kind of change, at least. There were times he wondered just what that "something drastic" was going to end up being. For him, there wasn't so much doubt that it was going to happen, though. With Chronos still hard at work, something drastic was always waiting in the wings. It was just a matter of surviving it, or hiding from it in their case.

The same way they'd been doing for half a year now.

A knock at the door—the same call-and-response pattern he and Natsuki had worked out when she had first helped them to hide in the apartment her uncle had rented for her—let him know that she was home. He hurried over to the door, not wanting to wake the rest of the people who were staying with them. Once he'd opened the door, he found Natsuki there. That was good. But he could also see, just barely, three figures standing in the dark behind her.

That wasn't so good.

The three of them were covered from head to toe in long, black raincoats, which he could understand since it was pouring down rain outside. The fact that their hoods were pulled up far enough to obscure every part of their faces aside from the chin and the bottom of their nose wasn't so understandable. In addition to being unnerving, it made him wonder just how any of them had managed to see Natsuki well enough to follow her back to the house. But what he was really wondering was just how he'd be able to go get Mr. Hayami and Mr. Jackson without alerting whoever these new people were and possibly endangering Natsuki.

"These people aren't bothering you, are they Natsuki?" he asked, wanting to let her know that he wanted to help her without _them_ finding out.

"Relax, Segawa. It's us," the tallest figure said.

Tetsuro recognized the voice almost instantly. "Maka-"

A sharp shake of his head let him know that this wasn't a good place to talk; he'd forgotten for a moment in his excitement.

"Just let us in; we'll discuss things in the morning."

"Come right in," he said, smiling and stepping out of the way to let the three of them come out of the pouring rain.

He knew Sho had to be one of the people in raincoats that had followed Natsuki home, and when the shortest of them turned to look at him, he could see the wide, relieved smile on his face. He couldn't help wondering just who the third person was—the one who looked around in seeming confusion at the bare walls of the main room. He was too short to be Mr. Murakami; aside from that, Mr. Murakami had died back at Mt. Minakami, and he wasn't coming back. But neither Sho nor Agito seemed bothered by him, and Sho was even holding his hand and tugging him forward.

"Take off your shoes, Crouger," Agito said, speaking in accented English for some reason.

"Are you kidding me?" The other boy – obviously a boy from the sound of his voice – responded in unaccented English; he must have been a foreigner. "It's like ten degrees out there. My feet are freezing as it is."

"It's common courtesy, Crouger. But then I guess you wouldn't know anything about that, would you?"

"_Bite me, _you bastard," Crouger said, sounding only mildly annoyed. "I'm not walking around on a cold floor in just my socks."

"I could get some slippers for you," he suggested, trying to defuse the tension that was clearly building between Agito and Crouger.

"Thanks," Crouger said, turning to him with a smile on the visible part of his face.

He smiled back, not quite sure if the other boy could see the action but not wanting to be rude in any case. Turning and leaving the main room – it was a struggle not to go and wake up all of the others, but like Agito had said, they could talk about things tomorrow.

Right now, all he had to do was to get a pair of house slippers for Crouger—warm ones, since it was so cold outside. And he'd have to find futons for the three of them to sleep on, though Crouger probably wouldn't be too fond of the idea. Judging by the way he acted, he was probably American, and they slept on raised beds. He still wondered what Sho and Agito had been doing for all these months, and more than that why they had brought Crouger along with them, but there would be time for all those questions and more once morning had come.

For the first time in half a year, Tetsuro was honestly excited for the morning to come.

He stared down at the house where 'Freezer and Feline Face had turned themselves into Lost Units so they could escape from the virus. That was something new; he might have felt sorry for those lab rats if they hadn't been a bunch of sadistic little shits who'd gotten just what they deserved.

It'd taken him a while to find the house. In the end he'd eaten a few people, then managed to find the general area by the landmarks that his fellow Lost Units had described. Now that he was seeing it, he couldn't help thinking of his old team. Somlum would have loved the look of this place—not just the gardens, but the house itself. Dymu would have happily raided the fridge and any cupboards that he'd been able to find, and after he'd managed to fill his stomach he'd have been right out on the grounds with Somlum. Dymu was really into gardening, but he didn't quite know why.

Maybe it had something to do with his powers—melding into the earth probably gave you some sort of feel for it. But maybe it was something more mundane than that. Maybe Dymu'd just enjoyed playing around in the dirt and there was nothing more to it than that.

He'd never known, and now he'd never get the chance to ask.

Glaring at the mansion, knowing even as he did that the thing was just an inanimate collection of wood and plaster but needing something concrete to focus his anger on, he leapt away and made for one of his newly-chosen hunting grounds. He varied them enough that Chronos wasn't likely to be able to track him down just by following the pattern of Zoanoids that were getting themselves eaten. He'd only been using this new one for about half a week, which was probably not long enough for even that bastard Balkus to be able to track him down. He was going to move on soon, in any case, just to keep things interesting.

Back on the ground and back on the hunt, he almost found himself wondering just what the butterball and his little friends would be doing, but then he decided he didn't care. As long as Chronos didn't manage to get their nasty little claws into any of his prey's little friends, he wasn't going to bother himself with anything but keeping the little twerps safe. It wasn't like anything interesting was going to happen this week.


	49. Friends and Family

When he woke up, a bit sore on the right side but with nothing that a nice hot shower wouldn't cure, he first stared around the room in complete confusion. The kind of where-the-hell-am-I-and-how-the-hell-did-I-end-up-like-this kind of confusion that usually only accompanied him to hotel rooms and his first few nights in a new house.

"Well, I see you're taking this pretty well," said a voice from behind him.

Ryan turned, and his first impression of the guy was that he needed a shave pretty urgently; he also looked a little husky. He had nice eyes, though—warm and open in a way that almost reminded him of his mother.

__

Speaking of Mom… +Hey, Captain Confusing—where'd you put my mom up?+

__

+Your mother has been placed in one of my safehouses, and will you stop making up stupid things to call me, Crouger?+

+Not unless you_ start remembering that I have an actual first name, Mr. Roboto.+_

He could swear the guy was grumbling incoherently; he had no idea how he could hear something like that, but that was the read he was getting.

"Did you sleep well, Mr. Crouger?" he asked, after they'd spent about a minute or so staring at each other.

"Yeah, once I got used to the whole sleeping-on-a-giant-pillow thing," he said, then wrinkled his nose slightly. "And could you call me Ryan? 'Mr. Crouger's' going to have me looking over my shoulder for my dad all the time."

He winced internally, remembering for only the second time that his dad had chosen to stay back at the house while he'd chosen to take his chances with those Chronos guys. After what he'd seen of them, he really got the feeling that that hadn't been the best idea. It was too late to do anything about that, though, so it was probably best that he just concentrated on what he was supposed to be doing.

Whether he was going to actually be able to _do_ that remained to be seen.

"Okay," the guy said, still smiling amicably. "It's nice to know your first name. After what you did for Sho when you two met, calling you by your last _does _kind of seem too formal."

The sound of wood sliding against more of the same distracted him before he could think of anything else to say. The girl that stuck her head into the room, looking around for about half a minute – taking in both him and the pudgy guy – distracted Ryan before he could think of anything to say in response. Unfortunately for him, the new girl only spoke in Japanese. It was the country for it, he knew, but it still made him acutely feel just how alone he really was. With Mom gone and Dad opting to stay back at the house, the only one he could really talk to was Sho. Well, him and the new guy.

__

Speaking of new guys… "So, you got a name to go with that interesting-looking stubble of yours?"

"What?" he rubbed his chin, apparently startled that the stubble in question was in fact still there. "Crap! I was so excited about seeing Sho again this morning that I forgot to shave," he grumbled, still rubbing his whiskered chin and looking like he'd forgotten all about the fact that there was another person in the room with him. Ryan starting to chuckle was probably what reminded him. "I'm sorry; my name is Tetsuro Segawa. I guess I never really thanked you for what you did for Sho, so thank you, Ryan."

Tetsuro looked sincere about what he was saying, so much so that he didn't want to ruin the moment by saying something stupid like "the pleasure was all mine". "You're welcome."

He was expecting that to be the end of it, so he was kind of surprised when the guy lunged – well, maybe it was a bit slow to be an actual lunge, per se – at him and started hugging him. Actually hugging him—it was kind of awkward. Kind of _really_ awkward.

"You're hugging me," he said, as if the guy couldn't have noticed it himself. "Why are you hugging me?"

"I don't care how you did it, I'm just thankful you managed," Tetsuro said, and now he was rubbing his stubble-bearing cheek against Ryan's own, which only made the awkward-vibes stronger.

"Ya know, normally I'm not one to go stomping all over someone's gratitude, especially when it's aimed directly at me, but could you kind of _stop hugging me now_?"

"I'm sorry," Tetsuro said, his eyes downcast and not seeming nearly so enthusiastic anymore. Ryan felt like kind of a jerk.

"It's not like I have anything against you, I just get a little weirded-out being hugged by complete strangers." He grinned to reassure the big guy that he hadn't been doing anything wrong. Not _too_ wrong, at least. "It's kind of an issue I have."

"I guess that's understandable," Tetsuro said, looking him in the eye again. "I really shouldn't have been doing that in the first place; sorry for invading your personal space, Ryan."

"It's fine; I didn't mind so much. It was just kind of unexpected, you know? Why don't we just forget it ever happened?"

Just as Tetsuro was nodding, the same girl came back into their room. He still wanted to know who she was, but now Tetsuro was speaking in rapid-fire Japanese, and he quickly lost the thread of the conversation. He might have liked those Uchuu Keiji things, but they were subtitled, and he spent most of his time reading the dialogue just to find out what the hell was going on. It almost made him wish the Veediots were here; they could probably explain just what the hell was going on.

Tetsuro was pointing at him now, and when the girl turned to look he waved. He might not have had the slightest, foggiest idea of what the hell was going on, but that was really no reason to be rude. And then, next thing he knew he was being hugged by a complete stranger for the second time that day.

"Hey, Tetsuro? You think someone pasted a sign that says 'hug me' to my chest without me noticing, somehow?"

The big guy laughed, but more importantly he pulled the girl off and started talking to her again. He didn't know what the guy was saying anymore than he had before, but he was grateful to be out of the whole being-hugged-by-someone-I-don't-know situation.

"Not that it's not nice to be meeting new people and all, but what the heck is going on?"

"This is my sister, Mizuki," Tetsuro said, grinning like a guy without a care in the world. "She said she wants to thank you for what you did for Sho."

"I also said I wanted to tell him that _myself_, big brother," Mizuki said, sticking her tongue out with a teasing look on her face.

Yep, those two were _definitely_ siblings.

"So, anyway, thanks for helping Sho back there, Ryan. I'm glad he met someone like you." She smiled at him, then hung her head and muttered something in Japanese.

He thought he caught a familiar name among all those syllables, but it was like trying to pick out a red bullet from a machine gun while it was firing. Barely possible, but not highly the likely. "Sorry, I don't think I caught most of that. What did you say?"

"She's still in shock…" Tetsuro trailed off, patting his sister on the head as she started to cry. "Over Mr. Murakami. You probably— No; I guess you _wouldn't_ know about him."

"I've heard the guy's name a few times," he said, sensing there was more to this than met the eye. Hell, he'd had to have been blind, deaf, _and _stupid not to pick up on something like that. "And I'm fairly sure Sho told me he was his friend." He bit the tip of his pointer finger, thinking. "Though you've really got to wonder about a guy who'd make friends with a bloodthirsty sadist like _that_."

"There's something you have to understand, Ryan: you weren't dealing with Mr. Murakami. Agito told me what happened, and the Mr. Murakami we knew would never do any of the things he did to you or to Sho. He'd been fighting against Chronos for as long as we knew him, and I'm positive he'd been fighting even before then."

"Enlighten me, then: what the hell happened?"

"I'm getting to that," he said, with a slightly annoyed tone. "Anyway, when we were trapped inside one of Chronos' largest Japanese bases – it's been destroyed, by the way – Mr. Murakami ended up fighting Gyou, one of Chronos' other Zoalords. He killed him, but Chronos has apparently either cloned him or revived his body somehow. The Murakami we knew – that Sho was friends with – would have never served Chronos willingly."

Sitting back, leaning on his hands, he considered what he had just heard. It definitely fit with the way Sho had acted when he'd first met the guy, _and_ with the punched-in-the-gut look he'd had when Imakarum had turned on him. It was weird to think that there were people out there who could actually raise the dead, but not so weird as it would have seemed if he _hadn't_ seen most of what those Chronos guys could pull off. Hell, he probably should have been _expecting_ some weird-assed crap like this to be what had happened. It certainly wasn't that much weirder than a bunch of guys who could turn themselves into hulking man-beasts at will.

"So, is there anything else I should know about?"

"Why don't you start by telling me exactly what Sho told you, and then I can fill in anything he might have missed?" Tetsuro offered.

"That sounds good," he said, settling himself down for a long talk.

While she watched Tetsuro and Ryan, not really listening since she already knew the story so well, Mizuki tried to process the fact that Mr. Murakami was gone—worse than gone. Sho had been devastated by what had happened – none of them could really bring themselves to think of it as a betrayal; all of them knew what Chronos was capable of – and none of the others were quite ready to talk about it. Agito seemed to be coping the best, but then that had been true even before any of them had found out about Chronos. He'd always been the strong one. Maybe a little _too_ strong, she thought, wincing at the memory of Takeshiro. The people there _had_ all been turned into Zoanoids, but there had to have been something that they could have done for them.

Pushing those thoughts back into the recesses of her mind, she turned her attention back to Ryan. He was kind of nice-looking, though she didn't quite know what to think of his red hair. It could have been dye – it would have been rude to ask, but that was probably what she was going to end up doing; it was less rude than trying to check, after all – but then he _was_ American. It could very have been real.

He was a Guyver, too, like Sho and Agito. It was nice to have another one working with them, but she'd thought that all the Guyvers had already been found and activated. She really didn't want to think about what would happen if Chronos managed to get their hands on even one Guyver. Just one could undo everything that Sho and all their friends had worked for. But then, maybe Ryan had found the last one and there weren't any for Chronos. That would be good; none of them would have to worry anymore, and they already had another good ally. That was what she was going to hope for, but she couldn't help the sneaking suspicion that the assumption – that was what it really was, after all – would turn out to be wrong.

When a lull in the conversation extended just a bit too long to be comfortable, she looked more closely at the her brother and Ryan in turn. Tetsuro looked the way she'd almost expected him to: like someone who'd just finished telling a painful story and wasn't quite sure what to say next. Ryan looked a little shell-shocked, but who wouldn't have after hearing something like that? She was having trouble believing it herself, and she'd at least known Sho well enough to know he would never lie about something like this.

Then again, Ryan had only seen Mr. Murakami as his enemy, someone who worked for Chronos and had to be stopped at all costs. That was probably why he was having such a hard time believing what a good friend Mr. Murakami had been to them all—even Agito, whom he'd never really seemed to trust.

When the door opened and Shizu came in to invite them all to breakfast, Mizuki was grateful for the break from thinking about all the horrible things Chronos had done – and was probably continuing to do – to all of those people who had been unfortunate enough to cross their path. Even Aptom, as strange and frankly scary as he could sometimes be, had clearly suffered at the hands of Chronos' scientists.

Tetsuro had been the one to pick up on that, of course. Mizuki knew that while she could be quite a few things, perceptive wasn't often one of them. It just wasn't something she was good at, unlike Sho, who _could _be perceptive but only chose to see the best in people. It might end up hurting him, especially considering the kind of people they were all up against, but she and Tetsuro had already agreed that they would help protect him.

Leaving the room behind, with Tetsuro leading their little procession and Ryan in the middle so at least one of them could help him if he got lost, Mizuki started to smell the familiar scents that meant they were close to the kitchen and, by extension, breakfast.

She wondered for a moment how Ryan would react to having breakfast with them—she'd read that Americans had different kinds of things to eat than people did here. _Well, I'm sure we can find something he likes if there isn't any of it on the table. Besides, Shizu always fixes great food._


	50. Secrets of Necessity

The inspection of the Antarctica Research Station had gone well – he'd taken Kenji along to show him all of the Zoanoid types that were being worked on. With what his son had done for Chronos, Imakarum thought he deserved a little reward, and they'd had a rather good time. Kenji had been so adorably curious while the two of them had been touring, always wanting to know what some new breed of Zoanoid did or what the function of the various Divisions were.

Of course, he'd had to find some pretext to keep Kenji away while he was interrogating the scientists. Kenji was kind, gentle, and easily swayed by emotion, and while he loved that about his son, the things he did were of necessity cruel. Kenji would never understand that; he would be saddened by the cruelty his own father displayed, and it might even lead him to start questioning the dictates of Chronos and Lord Alkanphel.

That was something that could not be allowed.

So he had sent Kenji off to the cafeteria, or to look out at the vast expanse of snow, or to play his childishly amusing games with the various Zoanoids he found. None of the Lost Numbers were permitted in the same room with his son, of course. Kenji had had too bad an experience with Aptom – though that particular abomination could barely even be considered a _Zoanoid_ – for him to want to risk his son's safety any more.

But now that they had returned to Cloud Tower and were once again under the protection of one of the largest of Chronos' Japanese bases, Imakarum felt at last that he could relax. There was no pressing matter that he had to attend to at the moment, nothing keeping him from simply enjoying his time with Kenji as he'd already delivered his report to Lord Hamilcal. And now he was again making the best of the time he and Kenji had together. It _was_ possible for him to refuse to perform the tasks that Lord Hamilcal asked him to: he was about equal to him in influence, if not in Council ranking, but it would have felt… unseemly to do such a thing. Lord Hamilcal was one of Lord Alkanphel's closest friends, the first of the Council and the one who had discovered Chronos' Supreme Overlord in the first place. Denying Lord Hamilcal anything simply didn't sit well with him.

"Well, now that you've finished your meal, Kenji-chan, what would you like to do?"

"Can we go have cake now?"

Imakarum chuckled; his son had been asking for that very thing almost since they had left the Antarctica Research Station. "Very well. I suppose you've had enough actual food inside you, so you won't get _too_ hyper. I know a good bakery near the Tower," he continued, helping Kenji out of his seat. "Would you like to eat there or come back here?"

"Um," Kenji paused, obviously thinking carefully about his decision. Imakarum thought it was adorable, and Kenji was certainly the only Zoalord whose most important decisions included whether or not he wanted to eat at a bakery. "Is it a nice bakery?"

"It's nice enough as bakeries go," he said, not particularly in the mood to eat in a public place, but willing to tolerate it for Kenji's sake. "It smells like cake most of the time."

"That sounds neat," Kenji said, smiling and picking up a last piece of chicken that he'd evidently missed while he'd been eating. "But… I don't really think I want to eat there. Is that okay, Dad?"

"Of course it is, son," he said, smiling. "Would you like me to pick up a cake for you, so we can eat it here?"

"Yeah!" he exclaimed, nodding enthusiastically.

"All right then," Imakarum said, smiling. "Do you want me to get a chocolate cake again, like last time?"

"Yeah, I really like those."

"All right then," he said, reaching over to tousle the boy's hair. "I'll be back soon."

Standing, Imakarum patted Kenji on the head a last time before he teleported off to purchase the cake that his son wanted.

When he'd finished the meal, which had been really similar to the ones he'd had back home – without scrambled eggs, which kind of sucked – he'd been kind of surprised that Sho hadn't jumped up to volunteer to do the dishes. But the more he'd thought about it, the more sense it had started to make. Sho, for all his helpfulness, was obviously still broken up over what had happened to his friend.

And, now that Tetsuro had told him just how close those two had been, he felt he could understand at least some of what was going on. Maybe not all of it—he hadn't known the guy nearly long enough to claim anything like that—but he could at least make some educated guesses.

"Ryan, there you are!" Tetsuro called, peeking into the room.

He'd gone back to the room where he'd first woken up, craving some quiet time to think about what had happened to him and what he was going to end up doing from now on. He'd also wanted to give Sho and/or Tetsuro a break from having to translate all that Japanese for him. He could make a guess at recognizing a few words from context, but none of the sounds were even remotely familiar and everyone talked so damn _fast_ that he couldn't make heads or tails of what they were saying most of the time. It'd been extremely frustrating, hence his wanting to get away from it.

"Anything specific you had in mind to tell me, Tetsuro?

"Agito wants to talk to all of us in the main room."

__

Joy. "Okay, just give me a few minutes to get this thing rolled back up," he said.

Originally, rolling out the futon had been just so he'd have something comfortable to lie lay on while he was trying to mull things over. He hadn't figured that it would help him to avoid Mr. High-and-Mighty, but hey; whatever worked.

"Just don't take too long, all right?"

__

Define "too long". "I'll keep that in mind," he said, grinning.

Tetsuro left soon after that, and Ryan sighed. So much for a restful afternoon. Sho would be there, since "all of us" pretty much automatically included him, so maybe he'd be able to keep Agito from being such a bastard. Deciding that he'd adopt his usual I'll-be-civil-if-you-will approach to the impending situation, Ryan started to roll up the futon to put with the rest of them. He'd found that it really helped if he thought of the thing as a sleeping bag instead of a bed or a really huge pillow. Rolling up sleeping bags was almost second nature to him, what with all of the camping trips he, his dad, and Uncle Albert had been on. Thinking of his dad was pretty much guaranteed to make him morose these days, what with everything that had happened.

He hoped the old man was all right, but the not knowing was really starting to wear on him. Of course, not knowing was a lot better than a few things he could think of, he mused, wincing slightly as he remembered what Tetsuro had been telling him just that morning. He didn't wonder why Sho hadn't told him, since it was pretty damn obvious to anyone who was paying attention that Sho didn't like to think about what had happened back in the 'States. Hell, if he'd been in that same situation, he would have probably felt the exact same way.

Deciding that he might as well bite the bullet now as wait for the His Supreme Assness to come in and yell at him for holding up whatever kind of meeting they were going to have, Ryan picked up the futon and manhandled it over to the pile where the others had all been stored. Heading for the main room (the living room, as he called it, even though no one else seemed to), Ryan wondered for about half a minute what they were all going to be talking about before he decided that since he was going to be there in a few seconds anyway, he could wait at least that long to find out.

"So, here I am," he said, peeking around the threshold even as he slid the door into the wall; these things had always reminded him of Star Trek. Low tech and all, but still. "What'd you want to talk about?"

"Crouger," Agito said, and Ryan decided to ignore the sight inflection on his name; he was being civil here. "We were waiting for you to arrive, what kept you?"

"Napping, mostly. But I had to roll that futon-thing back up, you know," he said easily.

"What _did_ you want to talk to all of us about, Agito?" Natsuki, who was a nice girl and nice to look at in Ryan's opinion, asked.

"With all of the Zoanoids that Chronos has in this area, it is simply not in our best interests to stay here anymore," he said. "I've arranged transportation out of the country for all of us. My forces will be coming here late tonight, since this kind of operation is best carried out under the cover of darkness."

"Wait," Tetsuro said, sounding mildly confused. "I'm pretty sure Zoanoids have enhanced senses even in human form. What good would moving out in darkness do?"

"It would serve to hide us from any of Chronos' unprocessed collaborators in this area." He looked over at the two guys who'd said they were some kind of Zoanoid called a Lost Number—Ryan couldn't think of their names at the moment, but he was sure they would come back to him eventually. "From what Jackson and Hayami have told me, the Zoanoid population in this area is being significantly reduced by Aptom's predation. This will make our escape all the easier."

__

Only you could be so happy about people getting eaten. Jerk. "So, where are we going to stay? I mean, it's not like we can go back to my house, since Chronos knows about it and all."

"Ryan brings up a good point," Tetsuro said. "Where _are_ we going to be able to stay? We only got this place because Natsuki's aunt knows us and is willing to keep our secret. Even her uncle hasn't been let in on _that_."

"I know that, as things stand, our position is precarious. But I've been working with some branches of the military that have been made aware of the situation." He paused, probably thinking about how he would talk them all into doing what he wanted. "I have arranged for a safehouse to be prepared for us to stay in."


	51. Leaving Home

He might have been being all civil and stuff, but that was no reason to stop noticing how much of a control freak Mr. Agito Makashima was. "So, where's this safehouse of yours located, anyway?"

"For obvious reasons, that's classified information, Crouger," he said, still sounding smug.

__

It figures. Settling back into his place against the wall, Ryan let the conversation wash over him. It was pretty damned obvious that they were going to be moving out of this place, not that he'd miss it or anything. Still, the people who'd been living here were the ones who'd really be affected by that choice, so it was really best to let them make it themselves, no matter _how_ much he was tempted to vote against moving just to spite Mr. High-and-Mighty.

For one thing, he'd be outvoted, so it wouldn't do any good. For another, he was trying to be civil. Voting against a good, necessary plan just because you had some personal problems with the guy proposing said plan wasn't civil in the least.

And he _was_ going to be civil, even if it killed him.

Once Kenji had been settled back into their bed for his usual post-meal nap, Imakarum headed back down into Cloud Tower's lower levels. There had been some new scientists brought in from Brant Medical Technologies, and it was his duty as a loyal Zoalord to interview them, to weed out those who would not devote themselves to Chronos. It would not do to have any others like Drs. Halverson, Sanderson, Odagiri, Henderson, or Yamamura, after all.

In spite of what three of those humans had done for him personally – giving him the opportunity to bring Kenji into the ranks of Chronos at a very high position – no other traitors could be allowed to work their malice within Lord Alkanphel's glorious organization. These humans would have to pass _his_ tests before they could be allowed to live. It was, at first, something Lord Hamilcal had asked him to do once. The idea itself was sound, and thus he had continued to perform the task even after Lord Hamilcal had said he could stop. If at any time Lord Hamilcal _commanded_ him to stop, the situation would be different, but for the moment Lord Hamilcal seemed to appreciate his efforts at weeding out those humans who would not give their utmost efforts for Chronos.

As he arrived back in Sub-level 1, the first of Cloud Tower's research and development divisions, Imakarum paused on the threshold and surveyed the room. The reaction to his presence was not as dramatic as it had been last time. That was good; little fear meant little chance that anyone here would be involved in the kind of clandestine activities that they would have to be… punished for.

When Imakarum Mirabilis stepped into the room, it was all Walter Chapman could do not to run screaming for the nearest exit. He'd heard the rumors: those scientists who had survived that power-crazed Zoalord's "interrogations" would find ways of getting word of their experiences out to the others who worked for the company. That gave him and the other newbies a better chance of surviving.

Looking back at the Zoalord as he made his way into the laboratory, he almost found himself disbelieving the stories that had been told about what a holy terror Imakarum Mirabilis was. He looked… pretty harmless. At least up until the point where he hoisted some poor bastard up by the neck and hurled him across the room.

Or flung them down one of the incinerator chutes, or ripped their limbs off, or did one of the many other things that let you know just _how_ unhinged this guy honestly was. He'd heard his share of horror stories about Edward Caerleon and his proclivities, which was what had lead him to request a transfer out of the London base so he wouldn't have such a risk of running into _that_ guy, but Imakarum was a different story. People said he didn't have a set territory, meaning he could stalk and/or harass any of them as long as he took care not to step on the toes of the Zoalord whose Section he was actually in. Walter didn't know how he acted around the other Zoalords, but it was obviously good enough to ensure that he was able to keep moving from base to base the way he seemed to enjoy doing.

There wasn't any real question in Walter's mind that Imakarum enjoyed the power he held over the lives and – more importantly – deaths of the scientists who were unfortunate enough to work for Chronos. There were few people in his position who wouldn't, and the way he acted around the people he terrorized made it clear just how _much_ he enjoyed the power he had over them. The man – or rather, Zoalord – was sick; Walter just hoped that he would be able to survive when _his_ time came.

Not knowing exactly when they were all going to be moving out, Ryan opted to expect the cars – or trucks, or whatever they were going to be – to come at any time. This was the one instance when he was glad not to have had any time to pack: nothing from home meant nothing that could get lost on the way to wherever they were going to stay after they left this place. That was good; no matter how much he might miss his comics, his collection of books, or his Sega, not taking the chance of losing them was better than doing so. Still, that left him with nothing much to do while he waited around for the transports to get to the apartment so they could all get their butts out of there.

No one seemed to be too interested in talking, which was understandable given the fact that there didn't seem to be much else _to_ do in this place, but kind of annoying since it didn't give him much to do besides catch up on the sleep that he didn't really need. Tetsuro had claimed the only TV, and Ryan hadn't seen much point in arguing with him since all the shows were in Japanese and he wasn't really capable of understanding that language, especially with the speeds those people seemed to enjoy talking at. Besides, most of what Tetsuro seemed to be interested in were news broadcasts.

Mizuki was cooking, and since his one attempt at that had ended with exploded hotdog all over the kitchen floor, he wasn't going to even go in there. His mom had always claimed that anyone could learn to cook if they were motivated enough, but after the hotdog incident she'd pretty much given up on him. Eating food he didn't mind; he could do it all day provided the stuff was good, but _cooking_ it… not so much.

So now here he was, stuck in apartment with nothing to do, in a country where he could barely speak the language, waiting for some guys in trucks or vans or what-have-you to come and pick him up. Whoever first said that war was "hours of boredom broken by moments of stark terror" definitely had the life of a Guyver down pat. Of course, he was really hoping that the lulls in battle wouldn't all be _this _boring. That would probably drive him to do something drastic to escape the sheer monotony.

A knock at the door woke him from his apathetic dozing. _Shit, what was that word Sho told me again? Aw hell with it._ "Come in."

"Hey," said Howard, who had said he was some kind of a Zoanoid. Of course, when he'd first introduced himself, Ryan had been curious about why the guy was still alive if he was really what he'd said he was. He'd never gotten the chance to ask, but now was as good a time as any.

"Hey yourself," he said, grinning. "You're Howard, right?"

"That's right."

"Good; I don't want to go messing up a bunch of people's names. Makes a bad first impression, you know?"

"That's a good policy to have," the man said, chuckling.

"There is one thing I'm kinda curious about, though."

"You're wondering why two Zoanoids like Hayami and I are staying with Sho and the others, or why we're even alive. Am I right?"

"That's about the size of it. So spill, what makes you guys different from any of the other Zoanoids that we had to kill back in Colorado?"

"Well, to explain that, I'm going to have to explain some things about Chronos," he said, taking a deep breath. "Within Chronos, there is a certain subset of Zoanoids called Lost Numbers."


	52. Fly by Night

It was just an hour past sunset when he heard the sounds of someone moving around in the apartment that woke him from a light doze

CS, 2

It was just an hour past sunset when he heard the sounds of someone moving around in the apartment that woke him from a light doze. Sitting up in his futon as the covers fell into his lap, Sho looked over at Ryan to see if the younger boy had been awakened by the noise. As it turned out, though, he was still sleeping. Tetsuro was, too, and Sho found it kind of odd to be the only one in the room who was awake. Agito was gone, so that made it obvious who was making the noise. Sho even thought he knew what all the clamor was about—Agito had to be getting ready for the transports to arrive. Like Ryan, he had also wondered where they were all going to stay after they left this apartment. Agito had as much as said that they were going to be leaving Japan, and since Chronos seemed to be stronger in Japan than anywhere else, that was probably a good idea.

Still, he _would_ kind of miss this place. Despite everything that had happened to him here, all the horrors that Chronos had inflicted on him, this was still his home. The place where he had been born and the place where he had grown up. In spite of it all, Sho knew he would be homesick when they left.

Gently shaking Ryan, since the younger boy had taken the spot closest to him when they had all gone to sleep, he was forced to duck as Ryan swatted at him. Knowing how it had always felt when he had been forced to get up in spite of his preference for sleeping in late, Sho didn't begrudge Ryan the attempt to make him go away. Still, Agito wasn't likely to appreciate them being late.

_+Ryan, you have to get up now. Agito's getting ready for all of us to leave. I don't think he'll be very happy if he has to wake you up.+_

_+King Bastard can be as annoyed with me as he likes+ _ Ryan responded flippantly. _+It's no skin off my back. Still, if you wanted me up, all you had to do was ask.+_

Ryan's eyes, dulled to a grayish color by the lack of light, stared back at him from the younger boy's smiling face. A few seconds later, Ryan had rolled on his back and started stretching.

_+So, we're finally moving out, huh?+_ Ryan asked, sighing as he presumably worked the kinks out of his body; he'd said he wasn't used to futons, and after seeing his bed, Sho was inclined to believe him.

_+I'm fairly sure. I heard Agito up and moving around, so I think he might be getting ready for his people to come.+_

_+All right, then+_ Ryan said, sighing._ +I guess we should get ready ourselves+_ he chuckled._ +It's a good thing I didn't sleep in the nude tonight.+_

He flipped the covers back and rolled to his feet before Sho could think of anything to say in response—not that he _could_ really respond to something like that. Ryan seemed to like saying things that couldn't be responded to.

He could hear Ryan speaking in English, and he recognized Tetsuro's name, though the younger boy seemed to pronounce it differently than he was used to. Once all three of them were up, they started to dress. The sounds of fabric sliding around, and muffled muttering from Ryan about something, were the only things Sho could hear. Until Tetsuro started chuckling, at least.

"What's so funny, Tetsuro?"

"Ryan was just complaining a bit," he said. "Something about a curse on all left socks."

Sho had to laugh at that one. That was another thing that Ryan had always seemed to like doing: making people laugh. He'd never really known anyone like the younger Guyver; nothing seemed to be able to get to him for very long.

When Tetsuro had told him about telling Ryan the story of how they had all gotten involved with Chronos in the first place, he'd been glad to hear it. Ryan was someone who had become something of a friend to him, and he didn't want to have any secrets from his friends. He also wanted the younger boy to know what kind of things he would have to deal with, now that he had obviously chosen to side with them. He still felt sorry for Ryan, since he had obviously been happy with his life before he had found the Guyver. And having to leave his father behind like that… Sho sighed; he honestly didn't know how Ryan could deal with that.

Leaving their room once all three of them were finished dressing, he found that Agito was waiting for them next to a small stack of wrapped bentos.

"Are we going to be leaving soon, Agito?"

"Yes," Agito said with a sharp nod. "Shizu just wanted to make sure that we all had something to eat before we left."

"That's nice of her," he said, sitting down on the floor next to Ryan. "How are we all going to be traveling?" he asked, remembering that Ryan had brought the subject up. He was curious about it too.

"By van. They're going to be arriving here in forty-five minutes, so I would suggest you take the time to eat," he turned and said something in English to Ryan. Sho could pretty much guess what it was.

_+Ryan, are you enjoying the food?+_ he asked.

_+Yeah, just don't tell me what's in it+_ the younger boy chuckled softly. _+I think we'll both be happier that way.+_

Sho found himself chuckling at that, too.

They finished the rest of the meal in silence, and when Shizu brought Mizuki and Natsuki into the main room to eat with them, and Mr. Jackson and Mr. Hayami settled down to eat themselves, Sho felt content. He might not have known exactly where they were all going, but he was glad to be able to travel with his friends.


	53. This Army Life

The trip had been long, more than a little harried in places, and boring for the most part. Personally, Ryan was just glad to have it over and done with. The house itself was pretty nice, settled into some valley or other that looked like it would have a nice selection of plants. That is, it would have if he'd ever had the chance to see it in daylight. But no, during the day they were all confined to the inner areas of the house.

He knew it was to keep any of Chronos' Zoanoids from figuring out that there were actually _people_ staying in what he'd been told was made up to look like some old abandoned shack, but he'd have been lying if he said he was completely okay with that. However, the one thing he _was_ completely okay with was having his mom here. She and Shizu seemed to get along pretty well, probably since both of them liked to cook so much.

He'd pretty much gotten used to not seeing daylight – Mom hated the fact that they all had to be functionally nocturnal and was scowling more often when she thought nobody was looking – and it was nice to be able to see the stars from someplace where it was dark enough that they just seemed to go on forever. Sometimes he even got to watch the sunrise before he had to duck back into his room to avoid one of King Bastard's lectures.

Of course, right now wasn't really the time to think about all those kinds of things—now it was more time for breakfast. He could already almost taste his mom's cooking, since she and Shizu usually alternated those kinds of chores to give the other some time off. Mom always seemed to know when someone was working himself too hard, and she wouldn't stand for it. It was just one of the things that made her who she was.

Heading down into the breakfast room, which was windowless so they could have actual lights on in there, he took a seat at the table and watched as she set out the dishes. He was going to be helping to wash those, the way he always did when his mom was the one tapped to do the cooking, so he at least wanted to know what he was going to be dealing with.

XxXxX

When he woke up, from another one of those dreams where three people who he could only vaguely make out stood around a pair of graves – one empty, one apparently filled – and the one on his right held a hand out to him, Sean sat up and scrubbed at his face. He could never tell if the rightmost figure wanted him to join the group or was just trying to pull him down into that open grave. Hell, he couldn't even tell if those three people he kept seeing were male or female, let alone what their motives were or might be.

He'd talked to Cori about it a few times, back when the dream had first started appearing, and all she had said was that it was strange. Normally he didn't put much stock in dreams, since reality was what was important as far as he was concerned, but this dream had been showing up every night for the last two weeks. That meant that it either had to mean _something,_ or his subconscious just wasn't what it used to be.

But for now, he pushed the dream to the back of his mind and went to go take a shower. He and Cori were staying with Lieutenant Carl Richards; the man looked enough like Cori that she could pretend she was his young cousin up for a visit. They at least didn't have to lie about the relationship that he and Cori had.

And, thankfully, no one seemed to be getting too curious. He was sure it helped that none of the soldiers who worked for the "Combat Research Division" – the ACTF's cover name – were well-regarded by the rest of the Army. Not that anyone who was actually on the inside would be stupid enough to underestimate the importance of what they were all doing. They _were_ fighting to save the world from some very sick people, after all.

Not that most of Chronos' employees could be considered "people" in anything but the loosest sense of the word.

Still, there were some people associated with Chronos who could be considered good, or at least as good as anyone could be when they were stuck down in that underground hell. The men he was even now going to visit were two of the exceptions to the rule: they had escaped from Chronos and were even now helping the ACTF to devise weapons and armor to fight Chronos' Zoanoids on even ground.

With how much those men knew about Chronos and their Zoanoids, Sean felt that it was only a matter of time before the Armored Hunters had the kind of weaponry they would need to fight Zoanoids and win much more often than they lost. Larry Johanson and Barney Sislak had been killed in one of Chronos' increasingly frequent raids on their off-base outposts, and he knew that he wasn't the only one who wanted a little payback.

That was one of the reasons he liked those two so much: they hated Chronos as much as he did. There were obviously some things that they weren't quite ready to talk about yet, mostly things involving Chronos' Arizona base and the massacre there. Sean wasn't about to push the issue, as Professors Odagiri and Yamamura were friends of his, and he didn't want to remind them of things that were probably best left forgotten.

Still, it had always been interesting talking to them. They had a lot of stories they could tell—not just about Chronos and their Zoanoids, but about other people who were fighting against Chronos. Masaki Murakami sounded like a good guy, dedicated and tough, someone Sean wouldn't mind getting to know. He and Cori both agreed that what had happened to his wife and son was awful, and Sean personally hoped that Murakami would at least be able to keep his son safe.

The kid would probably have been safer staying with the ACTF, but Sean more than most could respect just what kind of paranoia this life bred. And just how it messed with your mind. He'd have been the first to admit that if he hadn't known these people as well as he did, he wouldn't have let them get anywhere _near_ Cori.

Continuing on his way up through the base, Sean waved to a few of the non-ACTF soldiers he passed on his way. A few of them had tried to recruit him to the part of the Army that could be completely overrun by Zoanoids for all he knew. Finding out that some of the soldiers had been processed against their will was sick, but Sean had to admit that that was about what he'd expected from Chronos, though Professor Odagiri's reaction to Sean telling him that – a weary sigh, a sad look, and the assertion "you're young" – hadn't done much for self-confidence. If there were _worse_ things that Chronos had done… he didn't want to think about it.

Continuing on his way to Yamamura's and Odagiri's shared laboratory, Sean paused for a moment to look at the racks of weapons that the ACTF had managed to gather for themselves. It was a good selection; the ammo might not have been able to do much more than annoy those new Zoanoids that Chronos had started sending after them, but everyone here was working on new types of weaponry in their own capacity.

The input from the two Professors did a lot in helping them to figure out what they needed to deal with different breeds of Zoanoid. He'd even found out that there were nine main branches of Chronos, one for each of the Zoalords who held dominion over what were known as Sections in Chronos' terminology. Nine Sections for twelve Zoalords; Sean didn't think that quite worked out, but then maybe the Zoalords were different.

The Zoalord he'd killed certainly didn't seem like he'd be able to deal with sharing the world with nine different men.

It was a bit strange, the way neither Professor Odagiri nor Professor Yamamura knew about Fulton Balcas or what had been going on in Los Angeles in general. But then, from what they had been saying most Chronos scientists didn't keep abreast of what was going on outside of their respective departments. He didn't really understand why that was the case, but it was.

XxXxX

When he woke up, that strange voice calling to him the way it had been for the last week and a half, and Ryan swore softly. As if it wasn't enough that he'd had his life effectively ruined by some alien thing that had stuck itself into his back, something else was trying to drag him off to find something that just _had_ to be connected to the thing. He couldn't be unlucky enough to have attracted the attention of _two_ alien artifacts.

He hoped not, at least.

Since he'd at least gotten a good night's sleep, albeit one with really weird dreams, Ryan hauled himself out of bed and went to go get breakfast. He was hoping his "normal" routine would help him forget that weird dream he'd had, the same way it had done for his other dream—at least the ones that didn't fade away a few hours after he woke up. Of course, that would have been nice, too.

Heading for the kitchen, Ryan paused to sniff the air the way he'd taken to doing, trying to see if he could determine who was cooking just by the scent of the food. It smelled like Shizu was the one who had been tapped this morning. It was one of his mom's ideas: having so many people in the house meant some of them were bound to have different tastes in food, so she had come up with the idea of trading recipes with Shizu.

It worked out pretty well, since he'd have been the first to admit that having to eat the same kind of food day in and day out would have driven even him crazy. Hell, eating nothing but lasagna for three weeks straight would have driven him out of his mind, and he loved that stuff more than pizza. Well, more than most kinds of pizza, anyway.

Still, Shizu's cooking wasn't anything to sniff at – except for obvious reasons – and Mom clearly needed some time off, so there you were. Shizu was nice, and a good cook besides, so things weren't as bad as they could be.


	54. Cosmic Dreaming

When Ryan came into the kitchen, Norma immediately noticed that Ryan looked a little shaky; he'd probably been having those strange dreams last night. Truthfully, after everything that had happened, something like the dreams that he had been telling her about for the last four nights didn't seem all that strange. The fact that they were keeping her son from getting the sleep he still needed – in spite of the fact that nothing really seemed to be happening now – was troubling though. As she watched him plunk himself down at the table and take his usual plate of food, Norma made up her mind to keep an eye on him. These dreams probably wouldn't amount to anything anyway.

XxXxX

Waking from the fifth weird dream in the same amount of days, Ryan bit his lip to keep himself from cursing. It seemed like he woke up earlier every time he had those damned dreams, and it was becoming almost painfully obvious that he wasn't going to get any more sleep until he found out just what was causing them. Of course, doing something like that would entail getting out of the house. Getting out of the house would entail getting past His Royal Assness, something he was pretty sure he could do. The guy was probably still asleep right now anyway, but even if he got up at this ungodly hour, he'd have to be pretty out of it. Ryan knew from personal experience that Agito stayed up just as late as any of them, so there was no way he'd be as clear-headed as he always seemed to be during the day if he was up this early. With that thought in mind, Ryan made his way out of his room.

XxXxX

It had taken a bit of doing and a close-ish encounter with a nearly sleepwalking Tetsuro, but in the end he'd managed to make it out of the house. He also turned out to be right about two distinct things: one, it was too damned early for any normal person to be awake, and two, the house they were all staying in _was_ nestled in a valley. He'd been starting to get that impression, and it was nice to know he'd called things correctly.

Weaving his way through the long grass and taking care not to bend the stalks – as well as anyone could do when they were walking on the stuff, of course – Ryan shivered slightly as he felt the cold air blast him awake. While he would preferred a hot shower like any normal person, that definitely wouldn't have been possible since he wanted to keep what he was doing a secret.

Anyone who knew him knew he liked to take long, hot showers. His Royal Assness had even complained that he tended to use up all the hot water and had tried to limit his time in there to something he felt was appropriate. Needless to say, the guy had been sporting a black eye for a week after that little exchange. He wasn't going to go without the one luxury he had in this backwoods dump, and certainly not for someone he could barely stand on a good day.

Picking his way through the grass, he soon found himself staring down at a small stream. It looked pretty placid—there were rocks at the bottom, so he probably wouldn't have to worry about getting mud all over himself, and the signal he'd just picked up on was telling him to go straight, so without much grumbling over things that couldn't be avoided – not _too_ much, anyway – Ryan pulled up his pantlegs and forded the stream.

His shoes would have been soaked in transit no matter how careful he was, so he carried them in his hands as he made his way across. Wiping his feet as well as he could on the sandy banks of the stream, he shoved his feet back into his shoes and kept walking. He could only just see the mountains that bordered their little valley, even though his eyes had long since adjusted to the darkness. He thought it might be getting light soon, which was both good and bad, since while it _would_ make it easier for him to get around, it would also make it easier for people to follow his trail. Still, some things couldn't be helped, and there was no point complaining about things that couldn't be helped. But it _was_ kind of fun when you wanted to annoy someone you didn't like.

There was nobody with him at the moment, though, and he did like himself so he wasn't going to waste any of his precious time with stupid stuff. Pushing his way into the high grasses that surrounded the stream, Ryan continued on his way.

XxXxX

It'd taken him some time to find the cave, not that the small mountain that housed it had been so hard to come by. And at least the strange "call" he was getting through the Guyver had proved to be useful for something, at least. Still, walking into the cave in front of him with practically nothing to defend himself with wasn't in his plans. Calling the Guyver, just to have the security of its multitude of weapons, Ryan took a deep breath and walked into the cave. Time would tell if he'd find anything worthwhile there, but his curiosity would kill him if he didn't at least have a look.

XxXxX

As he picked his way through the rubble that was covering the… the whatever it was that had been calling to him, Ryan Crouger reflected on just how utterly, undeniably _weird_ his life had become. It had all started when he'd found the Guyver unit. Being half-buried in a cave-in hadn't been the most fun thing to have happen, but at least it had been relatively normal compared to what had happened after that.

Bonding with the Guyver unit had been painful, and waking up covered in some kind of weird organic armor had been… well, weird. Really, really weird. Then there was the fact that his family doctor, someone Ryan had known since he was just a little kid, had been working for an evil corporation that was trying to take over the world. It was all just a little too surreal for him to deal with all at once.

__

So, why the hell am I going off on some little side quest that probably has something or other to do with this damn thing that's been stuck in my back? I've got no fucking idea. As he looked for a way to get through a particularly thick-looking wall that blocked his way, Ryan finally lost the little patience that he'd had with this venture in the first place.

When he came to the wide, high wall that blocked any further progress that he might have tried to make into the cave, Ryan prepared to fire the Pressure Cannon again. That was when the voices came back, seeming all the stronger for the time they had been silent and quickly overwhelming his hasty attempts at resistance.

__

Okay. Okay. They seem to want me to follow them. I just hope I'm not getting into something that even the Guyver can't deal with. He had long since learned that some types of Zoanoids—Enzymes in particular—were too tough for a lone Guyver to handle. As he contemplated just what the voices wanted him to do now, the wall opened up.

There was a liquid-like sloshing sound as the wall in front of him slowly drew itself open. As the tunnel shlooped and sloshed into complete formation, Ryan tried to make out something, anything beyond the entrance. But either his Guyver's external sensors were malfunctioning, or they were being blocked, because he couldn't make out a thing.

__

Great. Just great. They want me to walk into a place I know nothing about, can't see into at all, and am getting some serious-issue bad vibes from. Perfect. Steam shot out of the vent ports in the gray Guyver's cheeks as Ryan let out the breath he had been unconsciously holding. Stepping into the hole in the wall, Ryan hoped that his external sensors would come back on soon.

The darkness inside the place where he now stood was oppressive, and it was made all the worse when the hole in the wall sealed itself shut. He didn't notice this, though; otherwise he would probably have tried to blast his way out with the Mega-Smasher, voices or no voices. But he was too preoccupied with trying to find out just where he had ended up to look back over his shoulder at the entrance that was no longer there.

The Guyver's Control Medal had started flashing, the light unseen by Ryan himself, but the effect on his surroundings could not have been more pronounced. All of the interior lights activated at once, bathing Ryan and everything else in bright bluish-white luminescence. It wasn't at all like what he had been expecting, though to be perfectly honest even he hadn't known just what _to_ expect.

But, whatever that had been, _this_ sure wasn't it. The walls of the room he now stood in were rounded and looked like some kind of bizarre fusion of plants and technology. Whatever this place was, it was a sure bet that it hadn't been made on little old Earth. Ryan sighed. _Okay, so I've been getting psychic messages from a UFO. My life is officially and deeply screwed-up._

It was strange, Ryan reflected, just how blasé he was being about the whole thing. Anybody else would have probably been panicking by now, unless they were one of those crackhead alien-abduction guys. Ryan wasn't one of those nutjobs—not by a long shot—but with everything he had been through, he would have had enough stories to entertain even the most far-out of those wackos.

Not that he intended to try and look for a convention of them just so he could brag about his experiences. _Ever_. Turning his attention back to the UFO, Ryan saw that there were two long, freestanding poles in the center of the room where he now stood. The poles themselves were somewhat thick and sturdy seeming, and they somehow reminded Ryan of the tines of a tuning fork.

Looking down at the floor of the room, Ryan found that there was a perfectly circular depression surrounding the "tines". That was when the voices came back. Hearing the many, overlapping whispers after having gotten used to the silence was both unnerving and annoying. Walking up to the tines, since that's what they seemed to want him to do, Ryan stopped once he was standing between them.

Mercifully, the voices stopped then, too. _Now what?_ Ryan wondered. Just then, two long arms descended from the ceiling. One was holding something that looked a lot like the scanners that Ryan had seen being used in grocery stores; the other one wasn't holding anything. Ryan had a moment to wonder just what was going on before some kind of organic restraints snapped closed around his wrists and ankles.


	55. Guided by Voices

"What the hell's going _on_?!" Ryan demanded of the universe at large as he was slowly and uncomfortably raised to a standing position.

But with his arms held up over his head and his feet suspended four inches off the ground, Ryan couldn't really think of himself as standing. The arm with the scanner (the one on the left) aimed its device at Ryan and started to move up and down his body. After about five or six minutes—he wasn't really sure how long it was—the scanner was retracted.

Whoever or whatever had brought him to this place seemed satisfied with that, at least for the moment. Both arms were lowering towards him again, after having been raised up over his head for some reason or other. The only thing Ryan really had the time to notice was that the scanner that had been on the end of the left arm was missing.

That was when the needles—the ones on both arms that Ryan hadn't even noticed before—all came flying straight at him. They stuck in various places all over Ryan's body, and then they all sank in. The needles, Ryan saw, were all trailing thin tubes behind them. Ryan had a sinking feeling then that he knew what was going to happen next.

Sure enough the tubes began filling up with blood—his blood, as it was drawn out of him. Ryan wondered for a minute why his Guyver armor hadn't protected him from the needles, but he was starting to grow too dizzy and tired to care.

As he slowly lost consciousness, the ship that now held him began to activate. The computer system was the only thing that really worked, but it was also the only thing that was needed right now. Alien text began to spill across the main screen, despite the fact that there was no one able to read it. On the left side of the screen, a slowly rotating model of Ryan's DNA formed.

A second screen, placed right next to the first, blinked on. On this new screen was an image of Ryan's Guyver unit on the left, and one of Ryan himself on the right. As his DNA was scanned, to be recorded and processed for further study, another arm descended from the ceiling. This new arm had only one "finger", as opposed to the others, which had had two. A thin, bluish laser shot out of the tip. Striking the Control Medal, the laser began to pulse in a regular rhythm.

The Control Medal began to mimic this rhythmic pulsing after being exposed to it for only a couple minutes. Ryan's blood, now flowing throughout most of the vital systems of the ship, began to glow with an odd blue radiance. Once this task was finished, the laser deactivated, but instead of retracting back into the ceiling like the others had, it stayed hanging down. More data, gathered this time from Ryan's own mind and that of his Guyver unit, began to scroll across the screen. As the ship processed this new information, the consciousness of the Advent that had remained with this spacecraft and had drawn this particular Guyver to it slowly awakened.

The information contained in the mind of the Guyver and its host was very interesting, but not all of it had come from direct experience. These "humans", as they now called themselves, seemed to be most fond of inventing stories about things that had never happened. It was an odd thing to the Advent's sensibilities, as was the emotional attachment that this human had formed to its creators.

The human's male creator, called father, Dad, old guy, old man, or Norman, depending on what the emotional state of his offspring happened to be, was dead. The Advent could tell by the chemical changes in the human's brain when it triggered those memories that the young human was still distressed by this particular event. It had been caused when his Guyver unit – having just regenerated its host along with itself – had gone into hyper-defensive mode in order to protect its still-unconscious host. Maybe that was the key to gaining at least some measure of control over this particular Guyver. Calling up those memories again, the Advent noted the chemical changes in the human's brain with greater attentiveness.

Judging by the reactions of the young male human, these were memories that he would prefer to forget. It would be simple enough for the Advent to erase them, but that would take time that could be better spent subduing its earlier creations and obliterating the other Guyvers. It would be much more expedient to simply cut the host's consciousness off from the Guyver unit.

That decided, the Advent set about separating the human's consciousness from that of the Guyver unit. It was not an easy thing to do, since by their very natures the Guyver units were closely bonded with and very protective of their hosts. In the end, the Advent decided that it would be simpler to keep the human unconscious and rely on the Guyver's hyper-defensive mode. Of course, this Guyver in its current state would be no match for the other Guyvers, to say nothing of the Advent's earlier creations. So this Guyver would have to be remade if it was going to fulfill its function as a weapon of the Advents. It was time to begin.

A few of the human's own memories were of enough interest that they merited being incorporated into this new form. The rest would have to come from the data that had been gathered about the other Guyvers and the Advent's earlier creations. This Guyver's form would also need to change, since it would not do to have this one confused with one of the creatures it was to be destroying.

The Advent set to work altering the Guyver's internal systems, causing it to twitch and writhe as its body was subjected to a sensation that would probably equate to pain in any other creature. But only the host of a Guyver unit was capable of feeling pain, and the movements made by the Guyver were solely the result of the pulses of energy being fed into the Guyver's pseudo-nerves.

The Control Medal began to pulse again as the Guyver reacted to the changes being made to its structure. A sound not altogether unlike human bones being broken came from the direction of the Guyver, but by now the light was too bright to distinguish anything that might have been causing such sounds. As the Advent made the changes to the Guyver's structure, weapons, and abilities, it also injected a powerful sedative into the host.

Along with the drug, the Advent also inserted directives into the Guyver's mind that would force it to return to the ship if its host started to show signs of reviving. Now that the augmentations of the Guyver's form and armor were complete, the Advent disengaged the systems that it had been using, and the light faded out slowly, revealing Guyver V's new form.

It was tall—taller than any other normal Guyver, and almost as tall as the Gigantic that had been created by Sho in the base at Mt. Minakami. The long fin that extended from the helmet stood more erect now, as opposed to lying relatively flat along the Guyver's head. There were also a number of opaque, bluish-white crystals set into the armor just above all of the joints.

The facial vents were also a bit different than those of a standard Guyver: there were now two vents on each side of the Sonic Buster, and they were triangular, as opposed to rounded rectangles or paired almost-squares. The head of this new, enhanced Guyver was a lot similar to that of a normal Guyver, as opposed to the radically distorted appearance of the Gigantic. The arms, legs, and torso of the new Guyver were also much longer, as well as thinner and weaker-looking than those of a standard Guyver. The head and neck were about the same length and size as they had originally been, but the shoulder armor and the hands were different from any of the other Guyvers'. This new Guyver's hands were now equipped with sharp, vicious-looking claws on each finger.

The shoulder armor wasn't the rounded, bulbous configuration that it was on a normal Guyver, either. The armor that covered this Guyver's shoulders was triangular, nearly flat close to the neck but curving gently upward until they stood a full inch above the Guyver's shoulders. The new plating also stuck out two inches beyond the shoulders as well.

There was also a new sheen to the Control Medal. At last, the Control Medal shone as the Guyver's hyper-defensive mode was activated after receiving no input from the Guyver's host for the predetermined time. The wall of the Advent spacecraft opened, bathing the new Guyver in natural light for the first time in more than six hours. The Guyver slowly walked out of the spacecraft and back into the cave.

Since there was nothing there to trigger either the hyper-defensive mode's battle instinct or the subroutines that had been implanted into the Control Medal, the newly recreated Guyver walked out into the weak sunlight that spilled in through the entrance of the cave. The cave was the same as it had been when Ryan had first set foot inside to find out just what was calling out to his Guyver. And now, with the hole leading into the Advent ship closed and sealed, there was really nothing beyond the altered Guyver to suggest that there was anything out of the ordinary here.


	56. Plans and Problems

Ryan knew he was dreaming somehow or other. Of course that knowledge might have had something to do with the fact that there were some things he just knew. One of them was the ironclad fact that no matter where you lived, there were a few well-known facts that could be counted on: one of those facts was that refrigerators did not sprout wings and fly. Of course, the dancing flowers might have also played a part in tipping him off. __

A giant marshmallow went rolling by, and Ryan stepped out of its way. Four wheels of cheese and another flock of refrigerators went by, the cheese wheels rolling in front of him while the refrigerators flew overhead. Ryan managed to catch a ride on the back of a coffee table as it came galloping by, but he didn't really know where he was going. Hell, he couldn't really remember how he'd even fallen asleep in the first place. That thought should probably have worried him, but for some reason Ryan was completely calm about the whole situation.

Of course, if he'd been in his right mind, that_ fact would have worried Ryan more than anything else._

A tablecloth glided overhead like a bizarre parody of a manta ray; Ryan waved to it as it passed over his head. The coffee table he was riding had joined up with a herd of other coffee tables by now, and they were all steadily coming closer to the floating castle made of ice-cream that Ryan had just spotted off on the horizon.

"Cool. Literally."

XxXxX

Agito was getting perturbed by Crouger's continued absence. He was not worried for the other Guyver, since Crouger had proved on more than one occasion that he was capable of taking care of his own safety. But Crouger also had a tendency to overestimate his own battle prowess at times, something that could quickly become annoying. However, it was not like dealing with Fukamachi's overprotectiveness and self-sacrificing nature, which Agito was extremely grateful for.

It was difficult enough at times to deal with Fukamachi himself; Agito didn't even want to find out how much more annoying it would be to have to deal with Crouger if the boy had been like a second Fukamachi. Agito knew that he had managed to earn Crouger's respect when they had fought, but he was still well aware of the fact that Guyver V barely tolerated him on a personal level. Crouger's strength, wariness, determination, and shrewd mind were assets that Agito knew he would have to be very careful about putting to his own use.

Crouger was a very independent person, one who would not put up with being manipulated. It was not even possible to convince him that the manipulations were for his own good, since Crouger had stated on more than one occasion that _he_ would decide his own good. With Fukamachi, Agito could at least count on his own nature to cause him to worry more about others than about his own survival.

But with Crouger—Agito smiled slightly—Crouger was enough like himself not to care so much about the survival of others when those others would be a danger to him. There were times that Agito could predict Crouger's reaction to something by remembering how he himself felt about that very thing. It was nice to have someone on their side who would not raise pointless moral objections when it came time to do the things that needed to be done.

But still, not all of Crouger's personality was to Agito's liking. There was the matter of his constant tendency to make light of situations, no matter how inappropriate. Then there was his taste in music, which Agito didn't mind as much as Crouger's proclivity towards turning it up to the point where it could be heard through walls and doors. If someone happened to be in the same room with Crouger when he was playing his music, he would usually turn it down, but it was still annoying to have to do that. But working with Crouger did have its benefits, not the least of which was the presence of another Guyver to aid them in their battles against Chronos. He would just have to learn to deal with Crouger.

But still, there was the problem of finding Crouger now. The other boy had been acting stranger than usual of late, and Agito had wanted to speak to him about what was troubling him. Not so much because he was worried for the other Guyver's mental health, since Crouger had proven on more than one occasion just how resilient he was, but because there might be something affecting Crouger. Something that could affect any Guyver—perhaps even something that could affect _him_. It was likely a remote possibility, but it was still a possibility, and Agito was not a person who left things to chance.

So Agito made an attempt to contact Crouger through the link that the three Guyvers shared. Concentrating on the part of the link that connected him to Crouger, Agito found that he was unable to even sense the other Guyver. Agito narrowed his eyes, focusing harder on the link between them. When he was still unsuccessful, Agito decided to contact Fukamachi—together, the two of them would probably have a better chance of finding Crouger.

__

+Fukamachi+

+Yes, Agito? What is it?+

+I have not heard from Crouger of late. I've tried to contact him through his Bio-Booster, but I have not been able to do so.+

+So you'd like me to help you, Agito?+

+Yes. Thank you, Fukamachi.+

Agito nodded to himself and focused on Crouger's link to him, knowing that Fukamachi was also doing the same. Trying to track Crouger through the link that the two of them shared through their Bio-Booster Armor had not worked when Agito had been trying it on his own, but perhaps with Fukamachi's help he would be able to locate the other Guyver. Agito waited for a full five minutes after trying to contact Guyver V.

__

+Agito+

+Yes, Fukamachi?+

+I can't find Ryan anywhere+ Fukamachi said. _+Have you had any luck?+_

+No. I've not heard from him since early this afternoon.+

+Where do you think he could be?+

+I am… unsure about that, he seemed to be troubled by something.+

__

+Troubled by what?+

+I don't know+ Agito huffed, annoyed.

__

+Well, do you think he's going to come back soon?+ Sho asked, sounding worried.

__

+I am not sure+ Agito said, considering what Sho had said.

There was no answer from Fukamachi, and Agito sighed in frustration. It wasn't like Crouger to just disappear this way. There were times when he was distracted by something, but when Sho called, Crouger was usually quick to answer him. It was an odd situation, but then Crouger was not a person who Agito knew as well as he would have liked, if only so he could have better predicted Crouger's actions. Still, this prolonged absence had to end sometime. Perhaps it would be best if he simply waited for Crouger to return on his own. The other Guyver tended to keep to himself at times, and Agito could understand the desire to do such things, as he was also an intensely private person. But staying away this long and ignoring him and Fukamachi when they tried to make contact… it was not like Crouger to do that.


	57. Hunterseeker

A pair of Gregole who had been originally been sent out to investigate the sudden surge of unknown energy that had then vanished were the first to die on the blades of the enhanced Guyver. The blades, four in all, retracted back into the Guyver's left arm. Jets of steam shot out of the Guyver's facial vents as the remade Guyver continued on its way.

The Guyver's next victims were a group of Vamore; they fell victim to a weapon that – had any of them survived to do so – they would have probably described as a more powerful version of a normal Pressure Cannon. As the gray Guyver started walking forward again, the left sensor on its head snapped backwards, and it turned without hesitation to fire the Head Beam at its new opponent. The Gregole's head vaporized from the heat of the infrared laser.

Turning with machine-like precision, the Guyver continued to make its way forward. Its destination: the Chronos processing facility on the outskirts of a small village. The facility itself was a minor one, but there were enough Zoanoids there to be a good test of the abilities of its form. The Guyver's limited intelligence made no allowance for the fact that every branch of Chronos would soon be alerted to its presence.

All that mattered was that its host was in danger, and it was the programmed desire of every Bio-Booster Unit to protect its host when they were in danger. Of course, the fact that this particular Unit's host would not have been in any danger if not for the Unit's own actions was completely lost on the barely-sentient mind. As the Guyver continued to move inexorably forward, the crystal emitters set just above all of the joints started to glow.

The light coming from the emitters was soft and steady at first, but soon it started to pulse. The crystal emitters flashed in unison, and the world around the altered Guyver seemed to stand still. The Guyver had translated into Hypertime.

XxXxX

The first sign that something had gone wrong was when the door blew open. Seeing a three-inch titanium-alloy door almost exploding off its hinges wasn't something any of the Zoanoids in this area were expecting to see. They'd been told about the Guyver attacks made against all of the other, more important Chronos installations, but none of them had ever expected _this_ plant to be attacked. After all, this was just a minor materials-fabrication facility. They only had a skeleton crew of Standard Zoanoids, mostly to do the heavy lifting, so when one of the Ramochis who had been carrying a heavy crate of computer parts was suddenly sliced in half from crown to crotch, the few technicians in the area were almost too shocked to react. That a Guyver would attack a backwater, no-name outpost like this wasn't something the staff had ever been prepared for.

As another Zoanoid, and then one of the human technicians, fell under the assault of an unseen attacker, the remaining humans and Zoanoids quickly elected to call for backup. This place may have been unimportant in the grand scheme of things, but they were still a part of Chronos and hence were entitled to at least some protection. But before any of the human or Zoanoid personnel could summon the clarity of thought to react to that, the slaughter started again.

Two Ramochis and two Gregole were the next victims of their unknown and presumably invisible attacker. By that time the installation was in a state of barely controlled panic, and it only took the deaths of three more Zoanoids to send the formerly complacent crew completely over the edge. Those three unfortunate Zoanoids were two Ziatt and a Razell. After their deaths, the panic that had been waiting in the wings finally overtook the Chronos materials-fabrication plant.

The masses of humans and Zoanoids running into and over each other in their haste to get out of the building and away from whatever it was that was attacking them made easy targets for the enhanced Guyver. The corpses of humans and the mostly-evaporated remains of their Zoanoid counterparts now littered the floor; some even stained the walls and ceiling.

XxXxX

The five processing-tanks had stood unopened for about a month now. Their cargo wasn't something that many people, outside of the Chronos Overlords themselves, were even privileged enough to know about. Every major Chronos base of operations had a room just like the one that held these specimens, one that even the elite Hyper Zoanoids were forbidden to enter.

As an additional precaution, there were very few processing technicians even aware of the true purpose of this room. Everyone else, with the exception of the Zoalord overseer of Chronos Japan, thought that the room was another of the many storage areas for Cloud Tower.

One of those who knew the room's true purpose, one of the most trusted of Cloud Tower's processing technicians, entered quietly. He'd been growing annoyed with their Zoalord overseer's reluctance to activate this particular contingency plan, especially given the fact that the Hyper Zoanoid in question had steadfastly refused any and all offers to be either reprocessed or simply repaired. Though the mental patterns – how they thought in a very general sense – of these Hyper Zoanoids had already been established, there was always the chance that this version would be more sensible than the last one.

Considering his actions for a moment, the technician decided to revive the other members of the Hyper Zoanoid Team Five as well. Zektor was certain to become curious and agitated if he did not have his four comrades by his side. If he were to become too suspicious, there was a chance that he would go searching for them and find this room. Giving a simple set of commands to the computer, he watched as the five processing-tanks drained completely.

The five Hyper Zoanoids within those tanks were still asleep, and they would stay that way at least long enough for the man to get them out of this room and into a more suitable recovery room. He wondered for a moment what the previous Zektor would think if he were to somehow become aware of the second Team Five, but there were very few chances of that ever happening.

Once Dr. Balkus had been informed of this new development, he would certainly want to keep the two generations of Team Five from meeting one another, if only to keep them from finding out that they were not as irreplaceable as all Hyper Zoanoids seemed to think they were. All Zoanoids could be replaced; it was just a matter of the correct materials and enough time. Hypers, however, were more useful when they believed themselves to be irreplaceable.

XxXxX

The Chronos materials-fabrication plant was in flaming ruins by now, and the time-shifted Guyver was staring at it impassively. If the rudimentary consciousness that resided within the Control Medal had been capable of feeling anything resembling human emotion, the enhanced Guyver would have most likely been feeling quite a bit of smug satisfaction at how easily it had dealt with its opponents. However there was not much beyond a simulated survival instinct within the Control Medal's limited intelligence, and the tall, spindly, almost wraithlike Guyver was merely scanning for new threats. Finding none, it left, flying under the power of the Gravity Controller. The wind whipped the flames that the Guyver had left behind, fanning them even higher. It would be some time before fire crews would arrive to put out the conflagration.

In the air, the Guyver translated back into normal time with an almost holographic flicker. There were no other enemies that its sensors could detect, and so it settled back into a kind of standby mode, waiting for its host to awaken. The programming that the Advent consciousness had tried to install within the Control Medal was already being rejected by the Guyver's rudimentary consciousness. The instinct to protect the host was already reasserting itself, and so the Guyver landed and stood still, waiting.

XxXxX

__

+I don't sense him anywhere, Agito.+

+I know+ Agito responded, annoyed that they had to go to such lengths merely because Crouger couldn't be troubled to answer them._ +But he is a fellow Guyver, and he could be in some sort of danger.+_

+I know, Agito. I just don't know what Ryan could be doing now that would take up so much of his attention that he would just ignore us the way he's been doing.+

+Yes; I wonder about that as well.+


	58. Tenuous Domesticity

As Ryan slowly came back to consciousness, he noticed two things: the first was that he was standing in a clearing, beside some big patch of woods that he didn't recognize at all, and the second was that he felt like he could eat a horse. Literally—bones and all. He'd probably have room for a side of beef after he was done.

Using the Guyver had never made him this hungry before; in fact, it had never made him hungry at all. Sho and Agito had never told him about any problems like this. Of course, ol' Makashima never told him about any problems that _he_ had _period_, but he'd have thought Sho would have told him about something like this. It definitely qualified as important, after all.

The fact that he was on the verge of passing out from hunger, and the fact that that really wasn't an option right now, since the Guyver would go completely ballistic on the nearest moving thing if he wasn't awake to control it, was something that Ryan was aware enough to know. So, definitely no passing out before he had removed the Guyver and sent it back to wherever the hell it went to when he wasn't wearing it. Focusing the way Sho had taught him to, Ryan willed the Guyver to come off.

Once the alien armor suit had come off entirely, _then_ Ryan passed out with some sense of relief. He'd gotten a telepathic message from Sho, indicating that he was coming. He'd also seen Sho and another Guyver, who could only be Agito, approaching with the hyper-sensors. After that everything went kind of black, and it stayed that way for a while.

When Ryan woke up again, he found himself in one of Agito's safehouses in a bed with blankets covering him from neck to feet. There was also a glass of water sitting on a table near his head, which he drank with relish. Up till that point he hadn't really noticed how parched he'd been, but now that he was aware of the fact, a single glass of water wasn't going to be _nearly_ enough. He wasn't really sure how much it would take to get rid of the feeling that he'd just had a shovel of sand stuffed down his throat, but once he'd gotten out of the room he was going to find out.

Sitting up, Ryan felt such a strong wave of weakness and tiredness wash over him that he had to lie right back down again. Trying to sit up again just produced the same result, so Ryan slumped back into the bed and just lay there for a while. The sound of the door opening and someone coming into the room startled Ryan momentarily, but he soon realized that someone inside the room meant someone he could talk to. And talking to someone meant that he would be able to ask them to get him some food.

Sure, it'd probably be rice or something like that, but it would still be _food_. And Ryan would have eaten raw horse without complaining, given how hungry he was at the moment. Still, he was getting a little stir-crazy from lying in bed listening to his stomach making its usual array of hungry-noises. So when the person in his room, who turned out to be Shizu, came into his line-of-sight, Ryan smiled brilliantly.

"Oh, you're awake now," Shizu said, smiling kindly at him. "How are you feeling?"

"Extremely hungry," Ryan said truthfully. "You wouldn't happen to have anything for me to eat, would you?"

"I'll get you some vegetable stew," Shizu said, smiling as she turned.

When she'd left the room, closing the door behind her, Ryan lay back on the bed and pulled the covers back up to his neck with a deep sigh. He was going to have to sit up, which meant actually _moving_, and with how wrung-out he felt at the moment, moving was pretty much the _last_ thing he wanted to try to do right now. On the other hand, Ryan didn't want to imagine how messy it was going to be if he tried eating while he was still lying down.

__

So, sitting up it is, then.

Getting his arms under him was the easy part as far as Ryan was concerned, but trying to push himself into a sitting position was completely out of the question—something he learned very quickly once he tried for the first time. The _only_ time, in fact, since he didn't have much energy left for a second attempt.

When Shizu came back into the room, carrying a very appealing looking – and smelling – bowl of stew, Ryan figured he'd just ask for help. There was no harm in it, and every muscle he had felt like overcooked noodles.

"What's wrong, Ryan? I thought you wanted to eat?"

"I do. It's just the sitting up part I'm having trouble with; I feel like tenderized steak. Over-tenderized, even."

"Let me help you, then," Shizu said, setting the tray with the bowl down on the nightstand.

When Shizu, after wrapping her arms around his middle, started to help him sit up, Ryan tried to do what he could to make her task easier. That turned out to be not much, since at this point Ryan was having trouble keeping his head up under his own power.

"You seem a bit lighter than usual," Shizu commented.

"You make it a point to go around lifting people who're friends with your boyfriend?"

Shizu blushed. "You are about Master Agito's height, and the two of you are also the same size. But now…" Shizu reached out to touch Ryan's cheek, looking at him with clear worry and speculation. "You also look a little thinner than you did the last time I saw you."

"Well, that might have something to do with how hungry I am right about now."

"Yes, I think you might be right," Shizu said, looking contemplatively at the bowl of stew still sitting on the nightstand. "Well, you should eat that for now, and I'll go make you something more filling."

"That's going to be kind of a problem," Ryan said, flexing his shoulders. "I kinda can't move my arms. I've been trying, but this is all I've been able to do," Ryan said, gesturing with his head at his fitfully moving left shoulder.

"You can't move?" Shizu asked, stepping closer and picking up Ryan's limp left arm. "Can you hold your arm up, at least?"

"I don't know," Ryan admitted. "Let it go and let's find out."

Shizu did just that, and Ryan's unsupported arm fell back to the bed with a muffled _thump_.

"I guess not," Ryan concluded, smiling weakly.

"You poor thing," Shizu gasped, leaning over to hug his neck. "I'll give you the soup myself, then. And then I'll make something else for you to eat."

Once those words were out of Shizu's mouth, she picked the bowl of stew back up and spooned up a nice-sized portion. As Shizu stood there, spooning up the stew and helping him to eat, Ryan wondered idly when someone else would come in and see him like this. It seemed an unspoken law of the universe that whenever he was doing something that could be taken as embarrassing, someone else would always come in and make snide comments about it.

That, of course, was when Mr. Agito Makashima strolled into the room, looking as arrogant as usual. _Can I call 'em or what?_ Ryan mused sardonically, resisting the urge to chuckle even as he swallowed another spoonful of the stew Shizu was feeding him. It was really tasty, even though vegetable stew wasn't really his favorite kind. Ryan would have really preferred beef stew.

"Crouger, _what_ are you doing?" Agito asked, looking like he'd just seen Ryan dancing naked in front of the whole house.

"What's it look like I'm doing?" Ryan asked after he'd finished swallowing another spoonful. "You ever hear it's not polite to stare when people are eating?" he added, hoping that Agito would get the hint and go the hell away.

As usual, he didn't. _+It looks like you're making a complete fool out of yourself. I knew you didn't have any pride, but this is a new low even for you.+_

+Agito, buddy of mine+ Ryan said, trying to make the fuck-off-a-little-more vibes as strong as they could be, _+listen and listen well; the fact that I'm probably going to be repeating this once a month is no reason for you to go and ignore it: Shut. The fuck. Up.+_

+I wouldn't have thought even you would be low enough to let yourself be hand-fed like this, but then you never did have any pride.+

+Why don't you go piss on a hydrant somewhere, dog-boy?+ Ryan shot back. _+There happen to be several very good reasons why I'm in this bed, not that I'm going to share them with you and your swelled head, King Bastard.+_

Settling back as Shizu put her hand on his shoulder, Ryan relaxed and let her feed him the rest of the vegetable stew. The fact that he could move even that far meant that he was recovering at least some of his strength, and that meant more to him than all the taunting King Bastard and his swelled head could ever think up or dish out. Now, if King Bastard would just oblige him and go the hell away, everything would be just perfect.

"Shizu, what are you doing?" Agito asked, not going away.

"Agito," Shizu greeted, sounding happier to see the King of Bastards than Ryan himself would have ever been. "Ryan… something happened to him, and now he can't move."

__

+Oh? Is that the excuse you're using now, Crouger?+

+Fuck you, King Bastard.+

+I didn't know that even you would have been willing to sink this low. Still, you have proved yourself willing to use many kinds of deception. I suppose I shouldn't be all that surprised.+

+Again: fuck you.+

It was only mildly annoying to note that Agito wasn't taking his giant ego and taking a hike, but then again, the jumped-up little shithead never did quite know how to take a hint—at least, not one that hadn't been applied with an industrial-strength sledgehammer. So, Ryan decided to ignore him in the faint hope that His Royal Assness, the king of all jerks, would get the hint and go the hell away.


	59. Home Stay

Shizu didn't know just what it was that Ryan had against Master Agito, why he was glaring at him so fiercely when Master had first come into the room, but Ryan had seemed to settle down as she kept feeding him. He didn't seem nearly as obstinate or sarcastic as Master Agito had once said he was; he seemed happy to have her with him, although, that might just have been since she was the one taking care of him.

Ryan seemed fairly pleasant. It didn't make sense that Master Agito would be so at odds with him. They had the same goals, after all. They were all fighting against Chronos, fighting to try and keep the world free from the horrors that those awful people were trying to unleash on it.

Still, both Master Agito and Ryan seemed determined to hate one another… though perhaps "hate" was too strong a word for it. The two of them seemed to have a great deal of problems dealing with one another, but Shizu was sure that they would work out whatever issues they had in their own time. They had to, if they were going to be able to fight Chronos with all the force available to them.

There were times when she wondered just how and why Ryan and Master Agito had started to have so many problems with each other. More often, she wondered what she could do to help them learn to get along again. But Master Agito didn't take her questions about his relationship with Ryan very well, and so she had learned not to ask about those matters.

Still, perhaps there _was_ something that she could do to help them come to some kind of accord. It was really best that they did—the three of them were the only ones who had any real chance of defeating Chronos. Even the military forces Master Agito was recruiting to his side did not have as much of a chance against a Zoanoid as a Guyver, to say nothing of the Zoalords. Of course, she would never tell Master Agito she thought this.

Looking back at Ryan, Shizu found that he had stopped glaring and closed his eyes. That was good, since at least he wasn't making any more efforts to antagonize Master Agito. Looking over her shoulder, Shizu found that Master Agito had just left. The click of the door made his leaving sound so final, but Shizu knew that she could easily find him again.

Right now, though, it was Ryan who needed to be taken care of. She didn't really know what it was that had made him so light and completely unable to move, but he did have a healthy appetite. Some food, and most likely sleep as well, would make him feel more like himself in no time. At least, that was what Shizu was hoping. She didn't like to think about the possibility that Ryan would never be able to move again.

"I'll be back in a few minutes," Shizu said, reaching over to take the bowl from the nightstand. "Why don't you try to get some rest?"

"I think I'll try that."

Watching as Ryan closed his eyes, relaxing almost imperceptibly as he sank into the pillows she had propped him up against, Shizu sighed softly. Maybe she could ask Mrs. Crouger to take a look at him. After all, Mrs. Crouger was a doctor; she was also Ryan's mother and would want to know what had happened to him in any case. Looking back at Ryan's slumbering form a last time, Shizu left to find Mrs. Crouger.

XxXxX

Norma Crouger had always liked to think that she was an adaptable and open-minded person, but learning what her son had gone through – what he had become now – had been just a little bit much for her to deal with all at once. There were times she wished she had been gradually let in on these little, and sometimes not so little, secrets her son was keeping; then there were times she wished he had never told her at all.

But then, it wasn't really like she had been given much of a choice at the time—it was either come with Agito Makashima and find out just what her son had gotten himself into when he found that thing in the cave – that Guyver – or risk their lives staying in a place where they were too well-known to hide. She had decided to leave, not even having the time to call the hospital where she worked and tell them that she was going. Of course, that had been one of the precautions Agito had insisted upon: the fewer people who knew where she was, the fewer Chronos would be able to hunt down and interrogate or process to get at the information that they had.

The idea of processing had both intrigued and disgusted her in equal measures. That it was forced on people was a disgusting and immoral situation, but the process itself was fascinating. The fact that someone – or several someones, owing to the size of the organization that had developed the system – had developed a method of awakening dormant gene-sequences was truly astounding.

No one on Earth – at least as far as she had known – had ever developed anything comparable to that. She often wondered just when they had first developed it, or what methods they had used. But after hearing what kind of use the people – in the loosest sense of the term, of course – at Chronos had put it to, she could only conclude that, no matter how fascinated she might be with the theories, anything having to do with making these Zoanoids needed to be stopped.

Ryan was participating in this war, whether she liked it or not, and that meant that he would need her support in what he was doing. Any campaign of this kind of magnitude needed people who were willing to work behind the scenes and help sustain those fighting on the front lines; that was one of the things she'd learned from her Marine father.

When Shizu – someone she was starting to realize was disturbingly infatuated with Agito Makashima, but to each their own – came into the room looking worried and obviously searching for her, she turned to face the younger girl.

"Is there something I can help you with, Shizu?"

"Mrs. Crouger, Ryan seems to be… I think he's sick. He can't seem to move, and he seems to be… thinner than he was before."

"_What_?" Shocked, she turned her full attention to the younger girl.

"I don't really know what to do for him," Shizu confessed, looking back towards the room Ryan slept in. "Please, I need your help."

"Of course I'll help you," Norma said. "He's my son; I know him better than anyone here."

That said, she hurried after Shizu as they made their way into the room where Ryan was staying. Looking in, Norma found that Ryan was indeed asleep—either that, or he was just lying there with his eyes closed the way he sometimes did. There was really only one way to find out if he was really sleeping or if he just wanted some quiet at the moment.

Well, there were really two ways; the second one just wasn't very nice.

Stepping up to the bed, Norma found that Ryan had ducked his head under the covers, and he only did that was when he was faking sleep. Sometimes when he did that he just stared at something, and others he just didn't feel the need to close his eyes. Or he just forgot to—she'd never managed to get a coherent explanation out of him about his not-sleeping habits.

"I know you're awake under there, Ryan," she said gently. "Are you not feeling well?"

"Actually, I feel like shit," he said, not lifting his head from beneath the covers he'd piled on himself. "Even with all the stew I had. Thanks for that, by the way," he added, turning his attention to Shizu. "I can't seem to get enough food in me."

"That sounds serious," she said, trying to project calm even when she was starting to feel pretty unnerved herself.

Ryan's cheeks were slightly sunken, but she'd seen him eating just the same as anyone else in the house. She knew he was more likely than anyone else to ask for seconds, and yet the only medical reason that he would have those sunken cheeks was in fact a mild form of starvation. It was confusing, and more worrisome than she wanted to show. It was her son's health at risk, after all; she wouldn't be much of a mother if she didn't worry about that.

"How are you doing, otherwise?" she asked.

"I'm settling in pretty good," he said, smiling in that carefree way he had. "I think I might even be getting used to Agito, hard as _that_ might be to imagine."

She laughed right along with Ryan. Anyone who had spent any length of time in the same room with her son and Agito Makashima couldn't help but see that they got along like oil and water. Or worse, but those times were rare; mostly they seemed to operate under a sort of strained truce. It wasn't the best of situations, especially for the war they were participating in, but Ryan and Agito seemed far too similar in temperament to give ground easily, even when it was probably for the best.


	60. Settling In

It had been a month and three weeks since he'd stayed with Sho's little idiot friends—not that he was missing them or anything—and he figured he should probably go back and check on them again. Turning and heading in that direction, he made sure to keep an eye out, as it were, for any Zoanoids in the area. Having snacks on the go was nice and all, but there was no way in hell he was going to bring a bunch of those little appetizers down on those little idiots when they didn't even have any protection.

Not until Sho Fukamachi managed to drag his sorry ass back from wherever it was that he was hiding himself. Then… well, then he would just have to find the little shit and see if he was finally up to snuff. And if he wasn't, which was really fucking likely he was going to beat the little shit down until he finally managed to realize just what the stakes were in this war of theirs, so he would be able to survive the fight against Chronos, and so he would actually be _worth_ killing when the time came.

Still, these excursions could be mildly diverting, if only for the entertainment value of riling up his two little former-lab-rat brothers. Feline Face gave as good as he got; 'Freezer was always up for giving a little lecture that could be easily ignored, and he turned the most _entertaining_ colors when Aptom made it clear that he _was_ ignoring the guy. So it was really for the sake of his little brothers that he made his way back to the apartment where they were all staying. Checking in on his prey's friends was really more of a chore than anything he did for enjoyment, except for the little butterball, and even _he_ could get kind of annoying.

Skulking through the shadows when the mood took him and occasionally taking time out for a snack, Aptom made his way back to the apartment where they were staying. The first thing he noticed when he settled himself in for a good, long sit was that Natsuki didn't seem to be anywhere in sight. That wasn't normal, since now was about the time she'd be arriving with her usual load of groceries to feed the hungry masses in that apartment.

Maybe she'd just been delayed a bit; he'd watch for about five more minutes before he started worrying about something that was just as likely to be nothing. Five minutes came and went, and he didn't even hear Natsuki's bike as she pushed it up the hill. This was pretty aggressively strange, but it could still be something normal. And it wasn't in his character to panic, no matter _what_ kind of weird shit was dumped on him. Panicking never did anyone any good, and in was likely to get you into even more trouble than you'd been in originally. He'd learned at least _that_ much from Chronos.

Reaching out to a few of the Others – various selves of his that he'd left to patrol the city so he'd have a better chance of dealing with anything that came up – he found that Natsuki wasn't anywhere along her usual route. That wasn't good; it meant that something had gone wrong. That _something_ was more along the lines of getting waylaid by Chronos rather than something so mundane as getting lost. She'd been taking this path home _more_ than long enough to know how to get from the grocery store back to the apartment, so that meant she'd run into some trouble somewhere along the way. Trouble meant two things: the first was that he was going to get some meals out of the deal, and the second was that he was probably going to have to watch over the idiots while they tried to find a new place to live.

So there was a fair amount of annoyance mixed in with his anticipation. Dealing with Chronos' Zoanoids was easy and fun; it was having to look out for his prey's little friends that he didn't like.

XxXxX

He'd been "on-shift", watching the apartment when the vans had shown up. He hadn't had any time to contact one of the others and tell them what was going on, and their recently-discovered communication skills would have caused him to blank out and lose his chance to follow them, so he'd hitched a ride on one of the cars and hoped that he would get a chance to meet up with one of the others and exchange some information.

For now, that left Aptom to settle into something of a routine while he looked for the opportunity to have some meals for himself. Because hidden or not, these people were still on Chronos' most wanted list—literally, in the case of the three Guyvers. And if one of those bastards got to his prey before he or any of the others had a chance to get his claws into them, all of them would be really pissed at him.

Or he'd be pissed at himself. It was really the same thing.

XxXxX

As much as she wouldn't have believed it when they first came here, this remote cabin in a valley none of them but Agito knew the exact location of was starting to feel like a home, and the people staying there were starting to feel like family. Maybe not a close family like she, Tetsuro and Sho were, but something like one at least. Ryan and Mrs. Crouger were almost as close as the three of them, and Shizu was becoming something like an older sister. Even though they were all hiding here from people – or not even _people_ anymore, really – who would kill them without any hesitation, this place felt safe, protected from everything that had been going on in the world; somewhere they would all be able to relax.

"I've told you for the last time, King Bastard, I've got _no fucking idea_ just what that thing did to me, or why it even called to me in the first place. Now if you keep _asking_ me about that, I'm going to feed you your own damned _teeth_! Are we on the same page now?"

Of course, Ryan and Agito could never seem to get along.

When he came striding into the main room, running his hands through his hair and sighing in obvious frustration, Mizuki felt she could sympathize with him. He _had_ wandered off without telling anyone and managed to get himself into a fair amount of trouble, but he clearly hadn't meant any harm to anyone. And in the days before he had gone off to find… whatever it was that he found, she—and all of them—had seen that he was struggling with something. Something he hadn't seemed to be winning against, something that made him space out at odd moments and lose the thread of long conversations he was participating in, something that had kept him up most nights, if the circles under his eyes had been any indication.

It had been hard on all of them, watching Ryan spiral farther and farther into what looked at its worst like some kind of psychosis and being helpless to do anything about it. Mizuki was glad that he had managed to solve his problems, but she could also see why Agito was angry with him. He _had_ potentially risked the safety of the cabin and all of the people inside it for reasons he didn't seem to be able to explain. It was times like this that she really came to appreciate just how different Ryan and Sho were—something like this would have been completely unthinkable for him. He would have been too worried about bringing the attention of Chronos to this cabin where they were all hiding. Sho certainly never would have argued with Agito or insulted him the way that Ryan just had.

But then, in spite of the fact that they were both Guyvers, Ryan and Sho were really very different people.

"Are you feeling all right, Ryan?" she asked, watching as he threw himself down on the couch and just lay there.

"I'm fine," he muttered. "I'd be even _more_ fine if a certain person we both know would get off my case about trying to remember things I probably wasn't even awake for."

There wasn't really anything she could say to that, so she just offered Ryan a warm smile and hoped it would help. Judging by the way he smiled back and seemed to relax, she thought it had.

"Anyway, I'm going to go take a walk," he said, levering himself up off the couch and standing back up. "Cover for me, will ya?"

"I don't think you should really be doing something like that, Ryan, not after the way Agito yelled at you for it," she said, not sure why she was trying to talk him out of doing something he was obviously set on doing, but not wanting Agito to be any angrier at him than he clearly already was.

The last time Ryan had gotten into a fight with Agito, both of them had ended up injured. Agito knew how to fight, but Ryan was perfectly willing to bite and scratch in addition to using more conventional fighting methods. In the end, the fight had been declared a draw by Tetsuro, who had forced himself between them and pulled them apart, but Ryan would always claim that he had been the one to win. She didn't know if that was just to make Agito angry or if there were some other reasons, but she had never been curious enough to ask.

"Look, I'll be fine," he said, perching on the armrest of the couch. "I'll make sure to stay around the house, and I'll even make like a good boy and stay hidden in the grass."

She was starting to realize that nothing she said would dissuade Ryan from going outside. "Agito's going to yell at you when you get back in, you know."

"Yeah, and we get along _so_ well otherwise," he chuckled. "I'll see you when I get back in, Miz."

"Have a nice walk, and remember to stay out of sight," she said, knowing that he would. Independent or not, he wasn't the type to go running around in plain sight. He knew what Chronos was like just as much as any of them.


	61. The Second Voice

As he made his way through the tall grass surrounding their cabin, Ryan mulled over his current situation. He had decided by now that he could get used to having that weird Guyver thing stuck to him. He could even get used to hiding out in this remote valley and having to play spy-guy 24/7. But there was one thing that Ryan was sure he was _never_ going to get used to: Agito Makashima. The guy was a jerk, plain and simple, an overbearing, condescending jerk, with a stick up his ass approximately the size of the flagpole at his old school. He could respect the guy, since Agito had at least earned that much, but he was sure he could never really _like _him.

"Hello, Crouger."

__

Speak of the devil. "Agito, how really _nice_ to see you again." _You asshole._

For some reason that Ryan didn't care too much about, Agito was currently in Guyver form. The black and orange form of Guyver III _was_ kind of impressive—even Ryan had to admit to that. _There's something off about this…_ Ryan thought before he shook it off. There was _always_ something off about Agito Makashima.

"So is this some kind of Guyver initiation thing, or are you just being weird? Again," Ryan asked, not really caring how Agito reacted to his tone or his words.

Needling Agito had become something of a game for Ryan, seeing how far he could push before the guy snapped at him. Of course, it was always interesting to watch Makashima fume, too.

"Just follow me, Guyver V. I've got something to show you."

"Imagine my excitement," Ryan said, rolling his eyes.

Ryan tagged along behind Agito, secretly disappointed that Agito didn't show any sign that he had noticed Ryan insulting him. The guy was getting a bit better at ignoring the barbs Ryan was throwing his way. But that just meant that Ryan was going to have to work a bit harder at getting under his skin. Now was as good a time as any to work on that.

"So, are we going to talk, or would that just mess up your whole 'strong, silent type' image?"

It wasn't the kind of reaction that Ryan had expected—in fact it was just the opposite—but Agito Makashima was actually _laughing_ at what Ryan had just said. Granted, it was only a low chuckle, but he hadn't thought that Agito was even capable of getting a joke, much less laughing at one. _Something's weird here,_ was all the Ryan had time to think, before "Guyver III" turned and leapt at him

The thing impersonating Guyver III enveloped Ryan in what felt like warmed-over tapioca. The thing that had lured Guyver V out into the forest turned out to be Aptom, the one surviving member of the Lost Number Commandos.

Aptom wrapped his now-liquid body around Guyver V, covering the red-haired boy from head to toe before he could even _think_ about calling his Guyver unit. The kid was putting up a pretty respectable fight, and he even managed to get one hand outside of Aptom's body. Aptom soon put a stop to that, though. Cutting off the kid's air supply was easy enough, and that alone took most of the fight out of him.

Aptom didn't want Guyver V dead; he just wanted to use his power against the one person in the world that he hated most: Sho Fukamachi, Guyver I. Guyver I, the murderer of his comrades Somlum and Dymu. Having Guyver V as a part of him would greatly increase his chances of winning a fight with Fukamachi. Besides, he had been looking for a quick snack.

As Aptom retreated into the deeper woods to better evade anyone who might come looking for the Fifth Guyver, he felt his recent meal give one last weakened kick inside him. The kid was down for the count now, unconscious but alive, and Aptom had to laugh at himself for being this concerned about one of his snacks. Normally he would have just enveloped his prey from behind, seeing as how he really enjoyed hearing the pained and panicked screams of his meals when they _knew_ what was going to happen to them. But then, this kid was a Guyver, and giving him a chance to call his Bio-Booster was a good way for Aptom to get his ass handed to him. He had learned at least that much from dealing with Fukamachi.

Walking still deeper into the woods, Aptom turned his attention inward. He had never tried to eat a Guyver before, so this would be a new experience for both of them.

XxXxX

__

It was the rubbing that first woke Ryan up, the feeling of someone's hands rubbing his back. It was kind of like what his mom would always do when Ryan was feeling sick or hurt.

"I know kid, that's why I'm doing it."

What the hell?

__

"Watch your mouth, kid. You know your mom doesn't like it when you curse."

Looking around for the source of the rough, male voice he was hearing, Ryan caught sight of the worst possible person to see for someone in his condition. Of course, it wasn't as if this new apparition sitting in front of him could really be called a person—at least not anymore.

"That's harsh, kid," Elegen said. "Here I'm trying to help you, and all you do is insult me. That's some gratitude."

The purple and white Hyper Zoanoid actually looked insulted, though how he was able to interpret the expression on a face that barely had any human features anymore Ryan was sure he'd never know.

"Okay catfish-face, just how long have you been able to read my thoughts?"

"Just since Aptom tried to make a meal out of you. And don't call me catfish-face. And no, I wouldn't like being called 'caterpillar-head', either."

"Well, at least you're not the bug-man," Ryan said resignedly, rolling his eyes. "And, huh?"

"Aptom, one of the biggest mistakes that Dr. Balkus ever made, is trying to make you the first Guyver that's fully a part of him. He can already copy Guyver III, but I guess you'd know that by now. And if I were you, I'd stop calling Zektor that to his face."

"Bite me," was Ryan's only response.

He still felt weak and disoriented, and the fact that there was an Elegen-type Hyper Zoanoid actually being nice to him wasn't doing much for Ryan's equilibrium, either. Elegen sighed, continuing to rub Ryan's back.

"You know, I think I might know a way that we would be able to help each other get out of here," Elegen said. "That is, if you'd be willing to trust a Hyper Zoanoid."

Elegen's tone was almost taunting, and he probably already knew that Ryan would take the challenge just to shut him up. Well, it's not as if I really have anything to lose by listening to him. If he's telling the truth, anyway.

__

"Well, it's good to know you're going to help me, kid."

"Well you should already know that I'm just doing this because you said that it would help me_," Ryan said._

"I said that we would be able to help each other_, kid."_

"Same dif, isn't it?"

"Pretty much," Elegen said, nodding his serpent-like head.

"All right then, do it," Ryan said firmly.

"Gotta warn you, kid, it might hurt."

"Do I look_ like I care?"_

Without any more words being exchanged between them, Elegen stopped rubbing Ryan's back. Placing his hands so that his fingertips would only just be touching the marks that the Guyver had left on the kid's back, Elegen pressed down as hard as he could.

"Get ready, kid."

"Ready for wha--"

The rest of Ryan's intended question was cut off by his own screams, as Elegen sent a pulse of pure electricity racing along Ryan's nerves. It was only about 22,800 volts, a trivial amount for a being that could attain a maximum of 2,000,000, but to Ryan, who was without even the protection of his Guyver armor, it wasn't a trivial thing at all.

The massive amount of electricity, combined with the fact that Ryan had only been in the early stages of digestion by Aptom, acted as the catalyst for a startling change. Elegen's hands, crackling with energy themselves, began to sink into Ryan's back. Human and Hyper Zoanoid flesh melted and fused, as Elegen started to scream as well.

The energy that was binding them together began to wrap around Elegen's body, seething like some kind of strange tornado. The topmost of Elegen's six bioelectric tentacles curled around both of Ryan's arms, their tips coming to rest on Ryan's palms, and he instinctively closed his fists around them.


	62. Threeway fight

Aptom, who had made it into a clearing by now, stopped suddenly as he felt something was wrong with him. It was as if one of his meals was trying to escape. But that was impossible, since all of the Zoanoids he ate always became a part of him and were therefore under his control. Just as Aptom was about to take another step, fiery agony ripped through his body, and he was blown apart from the inside.

Standing where Aptom had been, crackling with electrical energy and screaming in pain, was a strange amalgam of human and Elegen-type Hyper Zoanoid. Elegen's four lower tentacles still stuck out of Ryan's back, and Ryan's eyes were glowing yellow and crackling with hot, white arcs of electricity. Somehow, though neither of them would ever know quite how, Ryan managed to assemble the surplus air he needed to speak.

"Guyver!"

The pressure-field that surrounded Ryan blew the remains of Aptom's body even farther away. As the Guyver's protective armor closed around his changing body, Ryan wondered idly just what would happen to Elegen once the Guyver finished forming. For a few seconds, Ryan almost thought that he could still feel Elegen's lower sets of tentacles wriggling around under the armor covering his back.

__

)Let me handle this next part, okay, kid?(

)Elegen?(

)That's who I was the last time I checked,( Elegen sent with dry humor.

__

)Would you be able to tell me just what's going on, maybe?( Ryan asked, feeling that this whole situation was too strange for even him to handle.

__

)I'd guess that when our bodies merged, our minds didn't do quite the same thing.(

)Ya think?(

)Hey, you're acting like I knew this would happen. I just thought we'd… well, I never thought… oh, never mind.(

)You thought that what?( Ryan demanded.

__

)I just thought that my mind would either fade away when my body fully merged with yours, or that you would just end up knowing all of what I know. But it looks from here like you ended up like Aptom.(

)Great. This doesn't mean I'm going to start craving Zoanoids for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, right?(

)Sheesh, I hope not,( Elegen sent, with the mental equivalent of a shudder.

While they were talking, Aptom was working to reform his destroyed body for the umpteenth time. It was kind of annoying, having one of his meals interrupted like this, but Aptom was nothing if not persistent. And there was also the fact that he felt like he was missing a part of himself. Just as he was starting to regain his bearings, Aptom felt something hard slam into his face.

"That was for Zancrus, you bastard!"

It took a minute for Aptom to fully realize what Guyver V had just said. And only that long for him to pin down the feeling of something missing.

"So, Elegen," Aptom grinned sadistically, the only way he knew how to grin, "you managed to hitch a ride out on Guyver V."

"Wow, Aptom, you managed to figure that out all on your own. I'd really be impressed if I didn't hate your guts," Elegen said in Guyver V's voice.

Aptom laughed. "Well, this _is_ going to be interesting. Though I hope you didn't plan on being free for very long."

"Just come and get me," Elegen growled.

Aptom leaped forward, right into a blast of electricity from Ryan's – or rather Elegen's – right hand.

__

)How in the hell did you manage that with my body?!(

)You know, kid, I'm not so sure myself.(

Aptom shook off the pain from the blast and the urge to demand just where the hell it had come from as he moved out of the way of any other attacks that the Elegen-Guyver might try to use on him. Aptom didn't know just how he was going to deal with something he had never thought could even exist, something that seemed to be equal parts Guyver and Hyper Zoanoid, but he was sure going to have a hell of a time trying.

Another blast of electricity from the Elegen-Guyver sizzled the air, nearly catching Aptom in the gut.

__

)You know Snake-head, when we finally get out of this little skirmish, we're really going to have to try and figure out just what we can and can't do.(

)I know that, kid,( Elegen sent. _)And when are you going to stop making up these bizarre names for me?(_

)Oh, I don't know. Around the same time you start calling me something that's not 'kid',( Ryan sent, with a definite undertone of mocking.

__

)Well then, I'm glad we could come to an understanding, kid,( Elegen sent, a slight teasing note in his mental voice.

__

)Yeah, me, too, Snake-head,( Ryan sent, in the same tone.

Aptom came at them again, but this time Elegen was more prepared for the charge. Knowing that he couldn't let Aptom get within touching distance or he'd risk getting absorbed again, Elegen fired another blast of electricity.

"How the hell are you doing that?!" Aptom demanded, as he leapt out of the way.

"Wouldn't you like to know!" Elegen taunted.

__

)Yeah. I think we'd all like to know, Snake-head,( Ryan sent, slightly sarcastically.

__

)Hey, nothing wrong with trying to keep the Zoanoid-eater off balance,( Elegen sent.

Rolling out of the way of Aptom's punch, Elegen decided to see if he could use any of the Guyver's weaponry. Focusing, Elegen felt the Guyver's Gravity Controller respond to him. But it was as if something was keeping him from fully accessing the Gravity Controller. For a minute Elegen thought that Ryan might have been the one doing it, but the kid was still watching from his back corner of their shared mind.

__

)I think I'm going to need your help here, kid.(

)Yeah, I think you just might,( Ryan sent. _)Hey, Snake-head, do you think it's possible for us to share control somehow?(_

)Huh? Well, maybe. I've never thought of that, though,( Elegen seemed to be considering the idea. _)All right, kid, go ahead and try it.(_

)Just gimmie a sec,( Ryan sent, trying somehow to mentally "wedge" himself back into his own mind. _)I think I got it. Try it now.(_

Aptom, seeing that the Elegen-Guyver was standing completely still, naturally figured that this would be a good time to attack. Leaping forward with his hands outstretched to grab and infect, Aptom was met with another rather unpleasant surprise. This one came in the form of Guyver V's Pressure Cannon hitting him in the face. As Aptom stumbled backwards, minus a head for the second time that day, he cursed internally.

__

)Okay, kid, I think I got it worked out: you're the only one who can control the Guyver's weapons, which makes a lot of sense since I remember hearing the docs say that the Guyver only responds to the brainwaves of its host.(

)That makes sense,( Ryan sent. _)I'd even venture a guess that I probably wouldn't be able to use your powers. They do only respond to your brainwaves, right?(_

)Dunno,( Elegen seemed to shrug. _)I don't really know all that much about my own physiology beyond what works and what doesn't.(_

)Oh.(

Guyver V leapt out of the way of a blast from the laser set into Aptom's palm, them fired another blast of electricity from his own.

__

)I know what you're thinking, kid. And I gotta say, that's a pretty interesting idea,( Elegen sent.

__

)You know what I'm thinking?(

)Hey, we share a brain now, remember?( Elegen sounded a bit indignant, if "sounded" was really the right word to describe someone who was only speaking mentally.

__

)Point taken. All right, let's get this done.(


	63. Respective Confrontations

With that thought, Ryan started charging up the Pressure Cannon, and Elegen let his own electrical power infuse and mingle with the Guyver's gravity power. The result was something that neither of them would have ever been able to predict: the Pressure Cannon absorbed the electricity, turning from a flickering black to a pulsating bluish-white. The newly charged weapon, an electrically charged version of the Pressure Cannon, was really something to see.

Both Ryan and Elegen were more concerned about its effectiveness, of course. Firing the Pressure Cannon, both of them were pleasantly surprised to discover that the charged-up version did just as much damage as the normal version. Aptom wasn't so happy to learn that, but as far as both Elegen and Ryan were concerned, Aptom could go copulate with a cactus.

__

)It was kind of cool the way it zapped him and blew a hole in him at the same time, wasn't it, kid?(

)Yeah, I liked that, too,( Ryan seemed to laugh, despite the fact that there was no sound coming out of his mouth.

__

)What's say we try that again?( Elegen suggested.

__

)I'm up for that if you are,( Ryan sent.

Concentrating, Ryan felt the Guyver's Gravity Controller respond, building up energy and sending it flowing up his waist and down his arms to his hands. Elegen concentrated as well, sending his electrical power crackling up Ryan's arms to meld with the gravitational energy already collected in Ryan's hands. Once again, the Pressure Cannon absorbed the energy and changed. Their next shot hit the recovering Aptom in the leg, blowing the limb off entirely and giving Aptom another painful shock. Ryan and Elegen both laughed (one mentally and the other aloud) as Aptom fell to the ground.

"You little bastard! I'm going to rip you to pieces and _eat_ you alive!"

"Yeah, you can go ahead and try," Elegen laughed. "But I really don't think you're going to be able to do that, cannibal!"

Aptom's only response was a string of obscenities in several different languages as his body started to reconstitute itself again.

__

)Do you even know what most of that means, Snake-head? Because I haven't got the slightest idea,( Ryan sent, confused.

__

)I don't think you want to know what he just called us, kid.(

)It's that bad, huh?(

)Yeah, kid, it's that bad,( Elegen seemed to chuckle. _)Still, I didn't know Aptom knew _that_ many curse words.(_

Ryan laughed aloud at that pronouncement. Aptom, who was just starting to recover from the two charged-up Pressure Cannon shots that Ryan and Elegen had hit him with, growled when he heard the bastard Hyper Zoanoid laughing at him.

"I'm going to really enjoy killing you, you know?" Aptom snarled.

"Isn't that what you said when we blew your leg off?" Elegen taunted.

"_We_?!" Aptom demanded. "Since when are there two of you?!"

"Oh, did I let that slip?" Elegen asked with mocking sincerity. "Sorry, but I've got to have a few secrets of my own, you know."

"Oh, _secrets_," Aptom laughed. "Well, it's only going to be a secret for as long as you're still out there. Which isn't going to be very long, lunchmeat!"

Aptom giggled; Elegen scoffed and leaped out of the crazed Lost Number's way as he ran at them. Rolling out of the way of a slash from Aptom's—or rather, Zancrus'—Vibration Blades, Ryan pulled them back to his feet.

__

)You okay there, kid?(

)Yeah, I'm fine. But this guy's really starting to piss me off.(

)Yeah, well he's pissing me off, too, kid.(

Ducking another of Aptom's swings, Ryan started charging the Pressure Cannon again. Elegen, sensing the action, sent more electricity crackling along Ryan's arms to merge with the gravitational energies of the Cannon. The Pressure Cannon lit up again as Elegen's bioelectric power merged with it, and once the weapon was fully charged they fired it. The burst of power knocked Aptom over again, blowing another large hole in his body.

__

)You know, kid, this is kind of fun,( Elegen sent, with the mental equivalent of a grin.

__

)Well, I guess I can't argue with you there, Snake-head.(

Aptom was shouting abuse and cursing a blue streak at them again, which was pretty much all he could do at the moment since he was missing both his legs. Elegen laughed, and Ryan laughed right along with him, but only Elegen knew that, since Ryan's laughter was only in "his" head. Though really, he was borrowing the kid's head, along with the rest of his body. It was kind of a funny thing to think about, but on another level it was also kind of depressing.

Having a body again after being trapped inside Aptom's hive-mind for so long was nice, but Elegen was painfully aware of the fact that this still wasn't his body, to say nothing of the fact that he was currently in full Guyver armor, and the kid was at least a full foot shorter than he had originally been. Still, it was better than being stuck in that damned hive-mind, wondering when he was going to go the way of Zancrus.

Thinking of Zancrus, Elegen found himself getting depressed all over again. He had tried to get Zancrus to hold on, but the guy was hopelessly claustrophobic. Zancrus had held on for about three or four minutes, but his old friend had panicked and folded after staying in the lonely nothingness of Aptom's mind for too long. There wasn't anything left of Zancrus anymore, so Elegen didn't feel all that bad about letting Aptom have it with the electric Pressure Cannon. In fact, he felt pretty damn good about himself.

When Aptom decided to charge at him again, Elegen decided to let him have it again. Now that he was at least in a better position to wreak holy havoc on Aptom for eating most of his friends alive, Elegen wasn't going to let the opportunity pass him by.

XxXxX

Sho was getting worried again, after having felt the burst of fear and pain from Ryan. At first, Sho had been content to wait for Ryan to contact him with his usual assurances that he was fine and Sho shouldn't have worried about him, but nothing was forthcoming so far. Sho, having had enough of sitting around and waiting to see if Ryan would contact him, stood up and walked out of the house.

He knew that Agito wanted him to stay out of sight, but Ryan was in danger now, and Sho thought that Agito would understand. He couldn't just leave Ryan alone to fight, since he had felt the wordless cry for help through his Guyver unit. Slipping out the back door after managing to get past all of the security measures Agito had put in place, Sho made it into the front of the house.

The house itself had been thoroughly concealed and equipped with some of the best anti-detection technology in existence. Or that was what Agito had always said, at least. Deciding not to think about that any more, since he knew that Agito would try to keep them all safe, Sho made his way away from the safe house. He didn't want to draw any more attention to himself than he would by calling the Guyver.

Once Sho felt that he was far enough away from the safe house that he wouldn't be spotted, he called his Guyver and flew away. Trying to pinpoint Ryan through their link was harder than it ever had been, and Sho grew more worried that something had happened to Ryan. The links between their Guyvers had never been this hard to backtrack before. But finally Sho was able to home in on Ryan's signal.


	64. Second Showing

The bolt of electricity that Elegen had aimed at Aptom's head just missed as the Zoanoid-eater rolled out of the way.

__

)Damn bastard's faster than I remember,( Elegen growled mentally.

__

)Any ideas on how to slow him down?(

)Not yet, kid, but give me some time. I'm sure I'll think of something.(

Leaping out of the way of another one of Aptom's increasingly frequent charges, Ryan almost _felt _Elegen trying to think up a way to get them out of their present predicament. It was only when one of his sensor-orbs reacted to something that was definitely not Aptom attacking again that Ryan realized he wasn't alone in his fight anymore.

__

+Good to see you again, Sho. What brings you here, though?+

+You called me here, Ryan. Don't you remember?+

+Evidently not. Still, it's good to have you here.+

Sho, landing silently just out of Aptom's line of sight, began charging the Pressure Cannon. He didn't know exactly how Ryan had forgotten about calling him, or how he and Aptom had gotten into what Ryan would have probably referred to as a knock-down, drag-out battle, but at the moment, all Sho was interested in was helping his fellow Guyver deal with a mutual enemy. Seeing an opening in Aptom's defense, Sho rushed forward and fired the Pressure Cannon. Aptom, who had evidently been focusing all his attention on Ryan, ended up with a gaping hole in his flank and an expression of seething anger on his face.

"I don't have the time to deal with you, Sho!" Aptom snarled, sending a barrage of bio-missiles at Sho even as the First Guyver leapt out of the way. "Go away!"

__

+What did you do to make him so angry at you, Ryan?+

+I'm pretty sure that it's more the fact that I exist that's pissing him off.+

Beneath the Guyver's impassive mask, Sho fought the urge to roll his eyes in fond exasperation; he didn't have the muscles to do it, despite the fact that he was very tempted to. Trust Ryan to be making jokes at a time like this. Well, that was his way, and Sho had pretty much gotten used to it by now. As Sho moved to intercept a barrage of bio-missiles from Aptom, firing blasts from the Pressure Cannon to detonate the missiles before they could do any damage to the two defending Guyvers, Sho saw three Head Beam blasts crash into Aptom.

He was glad that Ryan was here, even if that was probably the reason that Aptom had attacked in the first place. Guyvers needed to support each other, since there were so few of them, especially against enemies like Aptom. Sho wasn't entirely sure why Aptom was still their enemy, since it was Chronos that had started the battle, and Aptom had made it clear that he wanted no part of Chronos anymore. He'd made that abundantly clear by eating any and all of the Zoanoids that attacked Sho when the two of them had happened to be in the same area. Sho had often hoped that Aptom would realize Chronos was their real enemy, that he didn't need to fight them anymore. But evidently today wasn't going to be the day that happened.

XxXxX

Aptom was livid. He didn't know how in the name of Balkus' ugly, wrinkled ass Elegen had managed to get out of his body. It wasn't like with that brat Zoalord, who'd called for help and had Aptom blasted into itsy-bitsy pieces by the guy that he'd only recently found out was the brat's _dad_. No, this was something that was completely unexplainable. Something that couldn't ever be allowed to happen again.

Now, if he actually knew _how _to prevent this kind of thing, Aptom would have been more than happy to do so. The fact that he didn't have the slightest fucking clue how that eel-faced little appetizer had managed to bond with the gray Guyver attacking him even now didn't make the annoyance at his escape any weaker. But, given what eel-face had said, the Guyver kid had survived intact, too. That just pissed Aptom off more. The fact that he hadn't gotten anything for his trouble, aside from a few blown-off limbs and some inane banter, was also pissing Aptom off in a rather personal way. Jumping out of the way of Guyver V's Pressure Cannon blasts, he decided that he'd had enough.

Extending a pair of Galma wings, Aptom flew off under the cover of another barrage of bio-missiles. He knew for a fact that that little bastard Sho wouldn't follow him, since he still seemed to hope that everything could be forgiven between them. The little murderer had actually had the gall to suggest that the two of them could fight on the same side. He seemed to actually think that Aptom would forget about Somlum and Dymu.

Maybe he would—after he, Sho, and Dr. Balkus finished ice-skating in Hell together. Aptom chuckled coldly as he set down: he was hungry again, and he'd just spotted one of the things that he'd wanted to eat for a long time now. Although why Imakarum would let his precious little kid go wandering alone, especially after what had happened the last time, Aptom wasn't sure, nor did he really care. Though it was kind of cute to see the kid all dressed up this time. Maybe he'd even keep the denim jacket that the little baby Zoalord was wearing. Well, that and the red bandanna. It would be fun to wear the kid's face to get in close enough to get his hands on Imakarum. After all, two Zoalords were always better than one. Trading his chimerical Zoaform in for a normal, everyday Galma, Aptom left the shelter of the scrubby forest he'd landed in.

The baby Zoalord was lounging in a clearing, leaning against an old dead log and just staring at the sky. Either that or he was taking a nap, but with the eyes covered by the sunglasses that he and Imakarum both wore, Aptom couldn't really tell which. He was hoping for the latter, though; that would make it so much easier to sneak up on the little Zoabrat.

As Aptom made his way closer he made sure to avoid stepping on any twigs or kicking up any dry leaves. Of course, trying to sneak around with Galma feet, what with their hard shell and pointed toes, wasn't the easiest thing Aptom could have tried to do. But if the Zoabrat wasn't asleep, using Chaltu or Alvix feet would have defeated the whole purpose of trying to be stealthy in the first place. Besides, this way he would at least be able to trick the little Zoabrat into going along with him. Walking up to him, Aptom saw him twitch. From the way that the little Zoabrat was moving around now, he probably _had_ been sleeping. That was kind of annoying, in that now he'd have to deal with the kid when he was awake, but there was still the fact that the little Zoabrat was hopelessly stupid.

Walking up to the kid, Aptom stood over him and waited for him to wake up. This would be _fun_.

XxXxX

Kenji, yawning as he woke up, took a look around at the place where he'd fallen asleep. _I guess I was more tired than I thought I was,_ Kenji giggled softly. Then he saw the Zoanoid standing over him and recognized it as a Galma, one of the most common models in the United Kingdom Section. Mr. Caerleon had showed him those.

"Hi," Kenji said, smiling.

"Hey, kid. Your dad sent me to come get you. Let me help you up." The Galma held out his hand for Kenji.

Kenji smiled again as he took the Galma's hand and let it tug him back to his feet. Zoanoids were really nice, once you got to know them. Swaying a little once he was back on his feet, Kenji felt the Galma helping to steady him.

"I guess you're still kinda tired, aren't ya? You wanna ride on my back?"

"That would be nice," Kenji said, blinking slowly as he let the Galma lift him up.

Hearing the crunch of leaves, Kenji opened his eyes slightly and watched the ground go by for a minute. Then, letting his eyes fall closed again, he cuddled up closer against the Galma's back. He wondered for a minute why his dad hadn't come out to get him. Of course, Dad was probably really busy back at Cloud Tower. That was probably why he didn't come.

The left side of his face started itching then, and Kenji lifted it off the Galma's head so he could scratch it. Or at least, that was what he tried to do, but something was still stuck to his cheek when he moved, and it wasn't itching anymore—it was burning. Before Kenji had a chance to wonder what was going on, something hot and dark wrapped itself around him. Whatever it was, it covered him from head to foot.

And it burned!

Kenji panted, trying to claw his way out of whatever was holding on to him, but it was like trying to fight his way out of mud. Hot mud; mud that stung and burned him as he tried to move. Mud that was forcing its way into his nose; into his mouth; down his throat; that was burning and eating its way through whatever it touched.

__

-Daddy! Help me!-

-Kenji? What happened? What's going on, my son?-

-It hurts!-


	65. A Second Opinion

__

-Kenji-chan, please try to calm down and tell me what is going on.-

When he started hearing Kenji's panicked screams, Imakarum stopped trying to figure out what had happened, locked on to Kenji's mental presence, and teleported himself to his son's side. What he saw was the worst thing he could have imagined: lying on the ground, fighting for his life against that damned Lost Number Aptom, was his son. The only parts of Kenji that Imakarum could actually see were his son's fingers when Kenji managed to claw an opening in Aptom's liquid-like body.

Kenji's telepathic screams were both reassuring and infuriating to Imakarum—reassuring because they meant Kenji was still fighting; infuriating because his son was in pain. Imakarum knew that he couldn't touch Kenji's body, or he would risk becoming infected himself, but happily for him, physical contact was not the only option. Imakarum transformed and then, using a less powerful variant of the Spiral Crusher, ripped the gelatinous form of Aptom's body off his son.

Kenji was thankfully unconscious, but his skin was raw and red, bleeding in places where Aptom had ripped it open. Levitating Kenji, though still taking care not to touch his son's skin, Imakarum enveloped Kenji's wounded body in his forcefield and teleported them both back to Cloud Tower.

__

-Lord Fried'rich! Lord Fried'rich, I need you now!-

Happily for Imakarum, the dominant emotion that the Zoalord was feeling was transmitted along with his thoughts if the Zoalord in question wasn't working too hard to conceal them. Fried'rich arrived half a minute after Imakarum called, and he took in the situation with his usual speed and thoroughness, which Imakarum found himself very grateful for.

"Come, Imakarum. We will tend to your son."

Imakarum nodded, hurrying after Lord Fried'rich and not caring if any of the Zoanoids within Cloud Tower saw him in this state. There were some things that were simply more important than appearances. As he and Lord Fried'rich made their way down to the main laboratory of Cloud Tower for the second time, Imakarum scanned Kenji's mind. He wanted to know how Aptom had managed to get close enough to get at Kenji again. He _had_ taken the time to explain to his son just how dangerous the Lost Number was to them, and with how badly Kenji had been hurt the last time, Imakarum was certain that his son would not have gone with the Lost Number a second time. Skimming over the surface of Kenji's recent memories, Imakarum found that Aptom had disguised himself as a Galma-type Zoanoid in order to get to Kenji.

Imakarum sighed; he was going to have to keep a closer watch on the Zoanoids who took care of Kenji when he wasn't there. He would also have to make an example of the Zoanoids who _had_ been assigned to take care of his son. It wouldn't do to have his soldiers slacking off on their duties. Even though the Zoanoids in Cloud Tower were all technically under the command of Lord Fried'rich, Imakarum was still their superior, and they were duty-bound to follow his orders. Imakarum had never and would never countermand Lord Fried'rich's orders, and so the Zoanoids within Cloud Tower did not even have the feeble excuse that they were given contradictory orders by the two Zoalords. After Kenji's welfare was settled and his son was safely placed in a processing-tank to heal, heads were going to roll for the fact that Aptom had managed to touch him again: Imakarum was not one to forgive such egregious failure on the part of Zoanoids who had been given such specific orders.

Once he and Lord Fried'rich had entered the main processing lab, Imakarum made for one of the empty processing-tanks and started to settle Kenji within it. This included hooking up the monitoring devices to Kenji's body, something Imakarum liked to think he did more gently than any of the other Zoalords that had handled Kenji in the past. Imakarum could hear Lord Fried'rich bustling around behind him, and he knew that the silver-haired Zoalord was preparing the computers to monitor Kenji's condition. He was very grateful to his fellow Lord for that service.

XxXxX

As he activated the computer systems that would monitor the state of Imakarum's son, Fried'rich could almost _feel_ the seething anger of the Twelfth Zoalord behind him. He was not surprised that Imakarum felt that way: if any of his own family had somehow been brought to him here and now, then almost lost by the carelessness of those serving him, he would have been rather incensed himself.

Since Imakarum was not taking care to shield his thoughts, Fried'rich knew also that the Twelfth Zoalord was planning to do to the Zoanoids that had been assigned to protect his son. Fried'rich personally thought that that was rather unfair of him, since the fact remained that his son was also a Zoalord and hence able to influence the minds of Zoanoids with the same ease that Imakarum himself displayed. The child might even have been completely unaware of what he was doing, and in fact Fried'rich thought that was most likely the case, since the little one still did not have as much experience with telepathy as his father did. Fried'rich hoped he would be able to convince Imakarum not to kill their Zoanoids—at least not without first considering that there were or had been other factors likely influencing them when they had left. Perhaps the boy Kenji had simply wished to be left alone for a moment and had unintentionally projected that desire to his Zoanoid caretakers. Given what he was, they would not have been able to refuse him.

Once the boy had been settled comfortably within the processing-tank (although perhaps calling one of those things comfortable was stretching the truth somewhat), Fried'rich turned and left the laboratory after turning the care of Imakarum's son over to one of his most trusted scientists. It was time he went to speak with Imakarum himself.

Following the Twelfth Zoalord's psychic trail, Fried'rich caught the mental impressions of Zoanoids in the same vicinity. Imakarum was berating them at a rather high volume, ranting about incompetence and the fact that Aptom had gotten close enough to be a danger to his son for a second time. When he started to hear the Zoanoids screaming, followed by the sounds of flesh and bone shattering, Fried'rich hurried his stride. He arrived just as Imakarum was disposing of the last of the Zoanoids that he had set with the task of watching over his son.

"Greetings, Lord Fried'rich," Imakarum said calmly, uncaring about the fact that there was a great amount of blood covering the wall to his left.

"Lord Imakarum," Fried'rich paused for a moment, unsure of precisely how to best phrase what he wanted to say to his fellow Lord. "Perhaps you are not thinking this situation through as carefully as would be beneficial."

"What do you mean by that?"

"I mean that you do not appear to have considered the full ramifications of the situation."

"And you have?" The single eyebrow that Imakarum raised clearly indicated his doubt.

"You know what your son is now, Imakarum," Fried'rich stated plainly, hoping that Imakarum's analytical nature would lead him to the appropriate conclusion.

"What does Kenji have to do with this?"

Apparently not. "Kenji is a Zoalord," Fried'rich said concisely, trying not to let his mild annoyance with the elder Mirabilis' mule-headedness become apparent.

"I still don't follow you."

Fried'rich could just _see_ Imakarum digging in his metaphorical heels, the way he always did when the subject of the changes to his son's biology came up in any kind of conversation. Sometimes, he wondered if even Lord Alkanphel himself could change Imakarum's refusal to see his son for what he was now—if he could, it would most likely only be through concerted effort. Instead of involving himself in yet another futile argument, Fried'rich chose to end the debate before it could truly start.

And perhaps give Chronos' Twelfth Zoalord something more to consider. "Think about it," Fried'rich said as he turned to leave.


	66. A Father’s Heart

As Lord Fried'rich passed out of his sight behind the sliding door, Imakarum wondered just what the true thrust of the Fifth Zoalord's words had been. Lord Fried'rich couldn't really be implying that _Kenji_ had had anything to do with the failure of the Zoanoids that Imakarum had sent to watch over him and make sure that he was safe, could he? No, that would not have made any sense. Kenji was young, and he had never been taught how to command more than one Zoanoid at once: his mind would not have been able to cope with the strain, Imakarum was sure, and so it was best not to have the temptation there in the first place. Kenji did sometimes overestimate his own strength when his desire to please grew particularly strong, Imakarum knew. Putting those thoughts out of his mind, Imakarum turned and walked back to the laboratory where Kenji was resting while he healed.

While saddened that Kenji had been hurt again, he knew that his son would be able to recover from this latest ordeal. He still had the protection of the other Zoalords and Imakarum himself. Kenji would always be able to count on Imakarum's protection; nothing would ever stop him from watching over his son. It was what Miaka would have wanted, and more than that it was what _he_ wanted.

Kenji was so small and helpless, in spite of the fact that his son possessed the powers and abilities of a Zoalord. Lord Alkanphel had made it quite clear that Kenji's powers as a Zoalord were only half as strong as a fully developed Zoalord like himself or Lord Fried'rich. Kenji was essentially a Proto-Zoalord who had had its lifespan extended to match that of a true Zoalord. Whenever he considered asking Lord Hamilcal to reprocess Kenji so that his son would have the full powers of a Zoalord, Imakarum would always stop short of actually requesting that very thing. There was no real _reason_ for him to request that of Lord Hamilcal: Kenji was powerful enough to enjoy himself, and since he had never had a chance to fully experience the power of a true Zoalord, he had no way to know what it was that he was missing.

And so Imakarum was satisfied to let Kenji remain as he was, safe within the walls of Chronos. There was only the matter of finding more competent Zoanoids to watch over Kenji when he was out on an assignment where Kenji's presence would be a hindrance to his mission. That task would most likely occupy a fair amount of his time, and with Kenji unconscious in the processing-tank, there was really no better time than now to do what he had to do.

Imakarum thought that he would try recruiting Hyper Zoanoids to be Kenji's guardians when he himself had to be elsewhere. However, there was the simple fact that all of the Hyper Zoanoids within Cloud Tower belonged to Lord Fried'rich. Imakarum would have to consult with Chronos Japan's Overlord before he made any precipitous decisions—especially those regarding the elite soldiers of Chronos Japan.

Patting the processing-tank that held Kenji's sleeping form, Imakarum turned and left the laboratory. He needed to find a group of Hyper Zoanoids that Lord Fried'rich would let him use to keep Kenji safe during those times that he had to leave him behind. The negotiations probably wouldn't take much time, as Lord Fried'rich was a gentle and understanding person. Sometimes Imakarum thought that Lord Fried'rich lacked the constitution of a true Zoalord, but at times like these he was thankful that the Fifth Zoalord had retained so much humanity as to care about the welfare of those weaker than himself.

XxXxX

As he made his way back to his room, Ryan couldn't help but think back on the aggressively weird things that had just happened to him, but there wasn't really any question in his mind that it had been real.

__

)Hey, if you think it was weird for you, kid, then what do you think it was like for me? I'm the one who doesn't have a body anymore, remember?(

)Yeah, and I'm the one who so generously offered to share my brain with you. So button it; I want to get some sleep, and I don't want you bugging me while I'm trying to doze off.(

)Fine; whatever. Enjoy your rest, kid.(

Blinking as he came back to himself, Ryan noticed the wall he was heading towards just a bit too late to do anything but walk into it and bang his nose.

"Ow."

"Ryan, are you all right?" Mizuki asked.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Ryan said, as he winked and made an effort to grin rakishly at Mizuki. "I guess I just wasn't paying attention to the big, solid wall right in front of me."

"I guess you really weren't," Mizuki said, giggling softly. "Just make sure you pay attention from now on—I wouldn't want you hurting yourself."

"Yeah, there are plenty of people waiting in line to do that," Ryan said, winking at Mizuki again. "I wouldn't want to deprive them of the opportunity. Anyway, I'm feeling a little bushed, so I'm going to go take a nap."

"All right, Ryan. I'll tell Sho and Agito not to bother you."

"Thanks, Miz; you're wonderful."

__

)You know, kid, you're disturbingly good at covering your tracks like that.(

)I thought I told you I didn't want to talk to you.(

)Don't be pissy, kid. Besides, you really shouldn't try to cover things like this up—from what I've been seeing, these guys are your friends. Well, all except for Makashima. With how he acts, I don't think that guy has_ any real friends.(_

)I. Need. Sleep.(

)Fine. Talk to you later.(

Moving out of the way just before he'd have banged his left shoulder on the threshold of his door, Ryan opened said door and stepped into his room. The bed, fluffy and inviting and right in front of him, was the only thing that Ryan cared about now that he was back here. Sparing some attention to kick the door closed behind him, Ryan untucked his shirt and pulled it off. Tossing it behind him even as he made for the bed, Ryan kicked off his shoes and left them where they dropped. Yawning as he pulled off his pants, Ryan sat down on the bed at last. Yanking his pants off of his legs, Ryan tossed them onto the floor and got under the covers. Pulling the covers up to his neck, Ryan fell asleep just as quickly as if someone had hit him over the head with a sledgehammer.


	67. Amicable Company

It was the snoring that woke him up first, since he'd trained himself to be a light sleeper. It wouldn't be very good, either for his own personal health or for his position as leader of Team Five, if he'd been caught sleeping on the job. Opening one baby-blue eye, still a little bit reluctant to wake up from that dream he'd been having, Zektor turned slightly toward the sound so he could get a look at just who was making that annoying noise.

The noisemaker turned out to be Darzerb, flat on his back and snoring fit to make a chainsaw jealous. _It figures,_ Zektor grumbled internally and reluctantly sat up. He didn't really care why the whole of Team Five was sharing a single room, since Darzerb's snoring was irritating enough to keep him from thinking about anything else but getting Team Five's largest member to stop making all the racket.

"Hey," Zektor said, gently smacking the right side of Darzerb's face with the back of his left hand. "Hey! Wake up, you lump; you're not the only one in this room."

Smacking Darzerb a bit harder didn't really do anything besides get the large Hyper Zoanoid to roll over on his side facing in the opposite direction of Team Five's leader, which meant that if Zektor wanted to get him to either wake up or shut up then he'd have to leave the comfort of his bed. Not that these old hospital-style beds were all that comfortable, but it was the principle of the thing. Getting up when he was ordered to or when he wanted to was one thing; having to get up to silence the annoying buzzsaw in the next bed over was something else entirely—something he didn't really want to bother with right at the moment. So, wrapping the pillow around his head to block out at least _some_ of the noise that Darzerb was making, Zektor settled in for a good nap. It was probably going to be the only one he got till the end of the day, so he had decided to make the most of it. Now, if Darzerb would stop making that goddamned racket Zektor would actually be able to _enjoy_ his nap.

In the end, though, someone else decided to put an end to Darzerb's snoring.

The soft slam of a pillow hitting someone's face distracted Zektor from his effort to ignore the snoring of his compatriot and fall asleep. Sitting up again, Zektor had to hurriedly swallow a guffaw as he saw Gaster standing over Darzerb with an expression of complete and utter smugness on his face.

"Thanks," Zektor said, chuckling as Darzerb started looking for his assailant. "Remind me to get you something nice for your next birthday."

Gaster, chucking soundlessly, winked at Zektor to let him know that he'd appreciated the joke. Darzerb, who'd been looking at the front of the room for his mysterious assailant, completely missed the fact that Gaster had managed to sneak back into his bed and lay down. When Zektor lay back down in his bed, he only had to wait about a minute before he heard the muffled _thump_ of Darzerb laying back down. After that, it was pretty simple for Zektor to get to sleep. Of course, rest was a rare thing for Zoanoids in Chronos, so the knocking on the door, while it _was_ kind of annoying, wasn't all that unexpected for him. Sitting back up, Zektor saw that the newcomer was one of the female Zoanoids—probably a Ranza, judging by her build and hair color.

"Hey, babe. Come to get us for something special, or did the bosses just want us out of this room?"

"I'm afraid they just want you out," Ranza said, looking briefly at her clipboard. "So, if you'll all follow me, I'll show you to your quarters for the duration of your stay here."

"I'd follow a pretty lady like you anywhere."

Zektor rolled his eyes. "Zancrus, don't be a chump."

"Look, Boss Bug, just because _you_ always have someone to keep your bed warm at night doesn't mean _I_ have to stop looking."

"Look, Romeo, we're not here to find dates for the Prom," Zektor said, standing up so he'd be more intimidating. "And what I do in the privacy of _my_ room, with _my_ boyfriend, is none of _your_ business."

"It's pretty obvious what to do in there," Zancrus drawled, "what with the grunting and screaming and all. You're only lucky you've got such short hair, otherwise everyone _else_ would know what you two are doing in there. Well, that and the fact that your lover-boy's bald."

Just as Zektor was about to say something really crushing to his smaller teammate, he caught the sound of someone laughing—someone female, so that left out any of his team. Turning to look at the Ranza that had come to escort them out of the room, Zektor saw that it was indeed her doubled up with laughter.

"Oh, don't stop on my account," Ranza said, waving at them and still chuckling as she straightened up. "This is better than sketch comedy."

"Well, at least _someone_ finds those two funny," Gaster drawled, cocking his head in the direction of his two bickering teammates.

"Well, now that we're all awake, I think we should get out of Ranza's hair," Darzerb said, acting as the voice of reason. He tended to do that a lot.

"See you, then," Zektor said, waving for the rest of Team Five to follow him out of the recovery room. "Let's get out of here, guys."

With a chorus of nods and acknowledgments, the rest of Team Five followed him and Ranza.

XxXxX

Shifting as he woke up, Ryan blinked up at the ceiling.

__

)You feeling better now, kid?(

)Well, I guess I couldn't get lucky enough to have that all be a dream. Damn.(

)Nope. I guess you're stuck with me from now on, kid.(

)Great,( Ryan rolled his eyes as he tucked his hands behind his head and stretched. _)Those new attacks of ours were really cool, I've got to admit.(_

)Yeah; I really wasn't expecting us to be able to use those kinds of attacks. I wasn't really expecting there to be any "us" anymore; just you, kid.(

)We're going to have to get used to using those new powers of ours, Snake-head. That is, if we ever want to be able to use them regularly.(

)Yeah, I know. Still, we should probably keep it a secret from the others.(

)Yeah, I think you're right. We should definitely keep it a secret from Agito, at least. And I so don't want to deal with Sho and Mizuki freaking out on me, so that leaves out telling them. I could always try to tell Tetsuro, but then he'd probably go and tell Sho anyway.(

)So I guess it's just our little secret, eh, kid?(

)Yeah, Snake-head, I guess it is.(

Rolling over on his bed, Ryan considered for a moment whether he wanted to get up or not. On the one hand, it was probably a good idea to start getting acclimated to his new powers and his new "partner" as soon as he could. On the other, he was still fairly wrung out from the battle, and he didn't have any pressing reason to get out of bed _right now_.

__

)So I guess the consensus is more sleep?(

)That's what it is, Snake head.(

)I can deal with that, kid.(

)Good.(

Ryan rolled over on his side, tucking his pillow back further under his head and curling up under the covers again. Then the door to his room opened, revealing Agito Makashima.


	68. Complications of Ambition

Fukamachi had told him about the battle that had taken place between Aptom, Crouger, and Fukamachi himself. It was a disturbing thing to consider, that Aptom might try to harness the powers of a Guyver by devouring one of those who possessed that power. If he had been willing to try it with Crouger, who had merely been bonded to his Unit for eight months, there was a chance that he might try again, this time with someone who had been bonded a great deal longer. _That_ was not something that he wanted to ever chance happening to him, so he would have to find out from Crouger just where that Lost Unit was so that he would be able to hunt him down and destroy him. Agito would not tolerate such a threat being loose.

"Crouger, wake up."

Crouger moved fitfully under the covers, turning away from him as he sought presumably to get back to sleep. Agito wasn't in the mood to deal with Crouger's annoying habit of ignoring any situation that did not suit his tastes, so he grabbed Crouger's bedclothes and tossed them onto the floor. Digging his fingers into Crouger's right shoulder, Agito was completely unprepared for the other Guyver to slap him across the face.

It seemed that Crouger had a good backhand in addition to his formidable right hook.

"Hey, sorry about." Crouger's eyes opened fully, and he paused. "Oh, it's just you."

The fact that Crouger thought he wasn't worthy of an apology was irksome enough, but the fact that he immediately disregarded Agito's presence entirely – turning over on the bed and closing his eyes again – made the situation all the more infuriating. Dealing with Crouger was always an exercise in frustration, especially when the other Guyver was determined to be obstinate like this. Agito would have personally preferred to let someone else deal with him, since for some reason or other, he seemed to be partial to Fukamachi. Still, the fact that Crouger would often treat him as a younger brother –in spite of the fact that Fukamachi was the older of the two of them – made it all the more difficult to deal with him at times. Fukamachi was a necessary part of his plans, at least for the time being, but Crouger tended to interfere with those simply with his mere presence.

His encouragement of Fukamachi to pursue his own goals and interests, outside of what was necessary for him to know, plus the fact that Crouger – knowingly or not, though Agito was more inclined to believe the former – encouraged Fukamachi to defy him, though Crouger called it "growing up" and "finding his own way". As if there was a pressing need for Fukamachi to start off on his own.

Agito would decide when Fukamachi left, when his usefulness to the goal Agito had set for himself was ended and he could cast the annoying, weak-willed, younger Guyver off like so many old rags. What Fukamachi did after that wasn't anything that Agito could bring himself to care about. Fukamachi's affairs were his own, insofar as they did nothing to interfere with Agito's own plans.

It was for that reason that Crouger and Fukamachi needed to be kept separate as much as possible when there was not a pressing need for them to interact. Off the battlefield, there was no such pressing need, and so he had worked to keep the two of them separated. Unfortunately, with Crouger's mother moved to another one of his concealed safehouses, there was little to distract him from making a nuisance of himself. Still, there was always the option of having Crouger moved to the same safehouse as his mother, but that would mean there would be an extra annoyance of having to coordinate with him when they set out to attack the Chronos bases in this area.

But there was time to think of ways to get Crouger out of his way later. Right now Agito wanted to know if Aptom would present any kind of a threat to him. For that, he needed to speak with the other Guyver.

"Crouger!"

"Go jump in a fire pit," Crouger muttered, sounding as if he was already halfway back to sleep.

"Wake up, Crouger," Agito growled, his patience almost completely at an end.

"Bite me."

Ripping the covers from Crouger's placid form, Agito buried the fingers of his right hand in Crouger's bright red hair and pulled him out of bed. Then he stumbled back as Crouger's fist smashed into his nose. Falling back to land in a completely undignified heap, Agito opened his eyes just in time to see Crouger's heel before it collided with his forehead.

Lying on the floor, stunned and in pain, Agito heard Crouger throw himself back onto the bed.

XxXxX

__

)Well, I think it's safe to say you showed him, kid.(

)You know, Snake-head? I think you're right.(

Of course, just as soon as Ryan had settled himself back into bed, he heard the sound of the door opening. Deciding not to bother with whomever it was trying to get his attention, Ryan turned over and fluffed up his pillow while shoving it back into the space between his neck and shoulder.

"Agito?"

Of course. Out of all the people who could have come into the room, it just had to be Sho. The guy seemed pretty nice and all, but there were times that it was all Ryan could do to keep himself from grabbing the guy and either slapping or shaking him until his brain started working. The guy could be way too noble for his own good—either that or too sentimental. Case in point being whenever they were confronted with Imakarum the Psycho. Sure, that guy was pretty good at pressing emotional hot-buttons, but if Sho wasn't already so damn soft, that kind of thing wouldn't work nearly as well.

Rolling over under the covers, Ryan pulled them up just a bit higher and hoped that Sho would go away. It wasn't that he didn't like the guy, but more often than not, whenever Sho showed up there was something to do with Chronos in the offing. And things to do with Chronos generally involved a lot of screaming, running, and general havoc. Ryan really wasn't in the mood to deal with havoc at the moment.

"Don't be fooled, Fukamachi," King Bastard said – and couldn't he mind his own business for _once_ in his whole damned life? – sounding annoyed. "Crouger's just pretending to sleep so he'll be left alone."

"And I love you so much, too, asshole," Ryan growled, sitting back up and settling the covers in his lap. "If you're calling me in for dinner, Sho, give the people my regards and tell them I'll be late. I've got some blankets to get reacquainted with."

His piece said, Ryan flopped back into bed, tucking the pillow back into place as he closed his eyes.

"Ryan?"

If it had been anyone but Sho – maybe Shizu, if he was feeling particularly charitable about the disturbance – Ryan would have punched them and then dealt with the consequences later. But beating up on Sho was like kicking a puppy: temporarily satisfying, but he'd start feeling guilty about it almost as soon as he'd finished. So Ryan sat back up, trying not to look as annoyed as he felt.

"_What_?"

"This isn't about dinner, Ryan," Sho said, sounding worried enough that Ryan took a closer look at him.

"Fair enough," Ryan said, leaning back slightly on his hands. "What _is_ it about?"

"We've discovered another one of Chronos' bases in this area. Agito told me that they call it the Pillars of Heaven."

"Yeah, that sounds like something those pretentious bastards would go in for," Ryan said, irritably scratching at a stubborn itch on the back of his head. "So, let me guess: we're going to fly out to wherever the hell this place is, and then proceed to knock it down and/or blow it up. Am I right?"

"That's what we were planning to do," Sho said, smiling slightly.

"Well, I guess I can tag along for something like that," Ryan said, stretching. "Now, if you'd be willing to haul your little buddy out of here," Ryan said, jerking his thumb at Agito, "I'll take the opportunity to get dressed and meet you out in the living room and we can get out of here."

"Don't make us wait too long, Ryan," Sho said, smiling as he went to haul Agito's ass out of the room.

"Don't worry about that," Ryan said, turning to wink at Sho over his shoulder. "Once I'm out of bed, I have a bit of trouble getting back to sleep."

__

)You're going to be making some trouble for Chronos, eh, kid?(

)Yeah. You got a problem with that, Snake-head?(

)No. It's not as if anyone I care about is still alive in there. I don't think even he_ could have made it out of a collapsing, erupting volcano… Anyway, good luck, kid.(_


	69. Family Man

He'd taken to making the rounds of the Dead Sea Plant when he wasn't going over the notes Dr. Balkus had given him. It wasn't as if there was much a one-legged Hyper Zoanoid could do, even one who had been one of the best the way he had. The thump of his crutches as he made his way down the hallway still infuriated him, even after all this time. Still, just because he hated his situation – and the looks of pity it inspired from those who'd been his peers – there was no real reason to give up the rest of his pride, no real need for him to become a lowlife like those Lost Numbers.

Still, just having himself regenerated in the 'tanks felt like a betrayal of their memory. They had been the best Hyper Zoanoids he had known, the best friends he had ever had. Elegen and all the rest had been pretty much the only family that he had ever known: Zektor had never known his family or if he had once had friends outside of Chronos. It wasn't like the issue was all that important in the grand scheme of things, but it was still something he thought about when there wasn't anything else for him to concentrate on.

He'd been thinking about it a great deal more often now, of course.

Resuming his walk – not that he had anywhere to go but back to his room – Zektor started to hear the sounds of approaching people. This place might not have been one of the most well used sections of the Dead Sea Plant, which was why he liked it so much and had requested to be moved to the place, but there were still people in the area. When those selfsame people started talking, though, that was when he paused to listen. Who knew—it could be some interesting gossip. Or maybe even actual _news_ for a change.

"I _told_ you we were lost."

"Oh, put a sock in it, you pushy son of a porcupine."

__

Must be one of those Lu-kill types, Zektor thought, chuckling softly. It sounded like ol' Lu-kill had managed to get some of his compatriots mad at him. It almost reminded Zektor of the way Zancrus would carry on when he'd gotten Team Five lost on one of his harebrained "shortcuts". _Now, if this were my people I was dealing with, about now is when I'd probably mention-_

"Listen you, we didn't request the scenic tour here. Now, if you really _don't_ know which way we need to go, we can go find someone to ask just where we're going."

__

Well, this guy seems to have his guys under control. Of course, if that were Zancrus, about now is when he'd start saying something like-

"Hey! Are we men or not? We don't have to ask for directions. I _know _where we're going."

"The only thing _you _know how to do is get the rest of us lost, so why don't you let someone who _actually_ knows what he's doing take charge here?"

The similarity to his dead friends was getting to be uncomfortable now, so Zektor decided to leave these new guys – whoever they happened to be – and find his way back to his room. It wasn't like he was ever going to get to see the rest of Team Five again, and being reminded of them just made the old wounds hurt all over again. Contrary to what some people might have believed about him, Zektor wasn't a masochist.

"Look, your almighty bugness, you might be our leader, but it wouldn't hurt you to actually-mmmfff!"

"If you finish that sentence, Zancrus, so help me I will have you running laps until you get dizzy and barf."

Zektor very nearly bit through his own tongue at that; not only from the name of the Zoanoid in question, but from the voice that had spoken the name. Up to that point, he'd been almost successfully ignoring the fact that these new guys had sounded almost exactly like Team Five when they were in their human forms, when they had been free from their many and varied responsibilities and left to amuse themselves in whichever base they had been stationed in.

When the not-his-Team-Five started talking again, Zektor turned and fled from the hallway, not caring about how loud he might have been while trying to move quickly on crutches, or really much of anything but getting the hell away from the people in the hallway. People who were exactly like his own team while still not being them and_ what in the fuck was going on?!_ Once he'd made it back to his room, looking over his shoulder all the while to make sure that none of the – not Team Five; couldn't be Team Five; _was not_ Team Five – people that he'd just met had followed him back. None of them had. Hobbling his way over to the bed, Zektor laid his crutches down within easy reach and then threw himself down on the soft, yielding surface.

Maybe it was time he started seriously reconsidering that offer that Dr. Balkus had made him.

XxXxX

Kenji was still sleeping when Imakarum came back into their room, and Imakarum smiled briefly as he caught sight of his son. Lord Luggnagg had made a rather odd request: he and Lord Fried'rich were going to oversee operations at Chronos Illinois' Pillars of Heaven, and Lord Luggnagg wanted Kenji to come with them. The Ninth Zoalord had said that he had wanted to educate Kenji about what Chronos was doing in that area. He had seemed very eager to have Kenji along with them, and Kenji would be well protected with both Lords Luggnagg and Fried'rich staying with him. So there was no real harm in letting Kenji go to Chicago, and though it would be rather lonely in Cloud Tower without him around, his son had been expressing an interest in traveling lately. And the journey would not be particularly dangerous. The trip was also two days away, giving him ample time to gently introduce the idea and help his son acclimate to it.

Sitting down on the edge of their bed, Imakarum settled in to watch Kenji as he slept. It was one of his favorite pastimes to watch Kenji until he woke up, then have his son stay with him for the rest of the day—at least when he was not occupied with work for Chronos. He'd had few chances to watch Kenji sleep lately, what with the increasing number of attacks made by the Guyvers, not to mention Atkins and his irksome Anti Chronos Task Force.

That only made the prospect of being separated from him for an indeterminate length of time all the less attractive. Still, Lord Fried'rich and Lord Luggnagg would be there, and none of the attacks by Chronos' enemies had taken place in Illinois. Not yet, anyway. Still, Kenji might get lonely if he was away from his father for so long: a month was a very long time for one so young. Imakarum knew that from Masaki Murakami's memories, and he was _not _going to make the same mistakes with his son as that infuriating, foolish man.

Turning his attention back to his sleeping son, Imakarum noticed that Kenji was starting to shift restlessly, the same way he always did when he was starting to wake up. Kenji rubbed his eyes with the back of his balled fist, blinking to clear the last of the sleep from his eyes.

"Good morning, Kenji," Imakarum said softly, reaching over to stroke Kenji's right cheek.

"Morning, Dad," Kenji said, yawning as he leaned into Imakarum's hand.

"Would you like to get some breakfast now, Kenji-chan?"

Kenji nodded enthusiastically, leaning against Imakarum, who chucked.

"You're going to have to get out of bed then, Kenji-chan."

"Oh, okay then." Kenji smiled, sitting up and then climbing up and out of their bed.

Imakarum ruffled Kenji's long hair as he helped his son to stand back up. Walking him over to their closet, Imakarum helped him get dressed, and then waited while Kenji put his shoes on. That was something that Kenji had always seemed to enjoy doing himself, so Imakarum stood back and watched. He was sure it helped that he had bought slip-ons for Kenji to wear—black, just like the ones Kenji had worn when he was still small.

Still merely _human_.


	70. Watching Over You

"Well, Kenji-chan, are you ready to go now?"

"Uh-huh!" Kenji nodded happily, taking hold of Imakarum's arm and hugging it as they both made their way out of the room. "I wanna have waffles!"

"All right then," Imakarum said, reaching over to ruffle Kenji's hair again. "I'll get you some waffles to eat."

As the two of them made their way down to Cloud Tower's large cafeteria, Imakarum felt Kenji lean closer. He truly enjoyed these simple times spent with his son. That was why he was going to annihilate the Guyvers and the Anti Chronos Task Force, both for Lord Alkanphel's glory and Kenji's safety. Once the whole of the Earth belonged to Lord Alkanphel, Kenji would be safe to journey out into the world at large.

Though his son professed to be comfortable and happy within the walls of Chronos, Imakarum knew that Kenji was eager to see the outside world. While he _was_ able to take Kenji on short excursions—what he usually did when Kenji's enthusiasm to see the world built to the point where he could not contain it anymore—he knew Kenji would have preferred to stay out for as long as his enhanced stamina would allow him to. With the threats of Aptom, the Guyvers, and the Anti Chronos Task Force, though, such things just weren't possible. It was simply best for Kenji to stay inside the various Chronos installations Imakarum took him to when he was making his inspections.

A quick journey spanning two elevators and a number of hallways that Imakarum didn't bother to count left them just outside the main cafeteria. Wrapping his arm around Kenji's shoulders, Imakarum led his son in. As much as he would have preferred a more secluded breakfast held away from the noise and constant stares that he found directed at him when they were down in the main cafeteria, Imakarum chose a table that was more toward the center of the room. The fact that he could stop the Zoanoids from staring with a single thought notwithstanding, it was still rather annoying to have to do so. And such methods had no impact on the humans who inhabited the facility.

Still, Kenji seemed to enjoy the bustle for some reason or other, so there were times Imakarum indulged his son by taking him down there and letting him observe the various staff going about their duties. After all, the things that were boring, pointless, or irksome for him still had some attraction for Kenji. And as his father, he had to at least try to respect that.

Once they had found a table to sit down at, far enough from the busier parts of the room to satisfy Imakarum's desire for privacy, but close enough for Kenji to still feel part of the busy atmosphere, Imakarum helped Kenji get settled and then went off in search of some waffles. As he watched his son eat his breakfast, he considered again just when he was going to bring up the issue of Kenji accompanying Lords Fried'rich and Luggnagg on their inspection of Chronos' Pillars of Heaven. He was almost certain Kenji would be willing to go: he liked Lord Fried'rich and seemed rather eager to explore the various bases Chronos had around the world. Still, Imakarum wasn't entirely certain that he wanted Kenji to leave. The fact that they could easily stay in contact with one another through their telepathic link notwithstanding, it would never really be the same as holding Kenji in his arms or talking with him face to face.

Of course, Kenji would probably enjoy spending time with Lord Fried'rich. And Lord Luggnagg seemed interested enough in Kenji's welfare that Imakarum was not that worried about his son's physical safety. After all, two full Zoalords would be ample protection for his son, as well as all the Zoanoids that were stationed at the Pillars of Heaven.

Once he noticed Kenji was finished with his food, Imakarum helped him to stand back up and took him to wash his hands. It wouldn't do to have Kenji getting syrup on any of the important instruments. Once Kenji had washed his hands – and brushed his hair again, which Imakarum thought was particularly cute – Imakarum led him back to their room.

__

-Kenji?-

-What is it, Dad?-

-I was wondering, how do you feel about Lords Fried'rich and Luggnagg?-

-Well, I like Mr. Fried'rich; he's nice and he helps me with stuff.-

-Oh?- Imakarum chuckled softly. _-You mean like those Alvix models that you developed?-_

-Uh-huh,- Kenji said, nodding happily. _-He helped me make them. And he taught me how to test them.-_

-Well, I'm glad you think so highly of him, Kenji. I know you haven't spent so much time around Lord Luggnagg, but do you have any impressions of him?-

-Well, he's kind of quiet.- Kenji paused, nibbling on his lower lip as he considered his answer.

Imakarum knew that his son was trying to think back, to remember the few encounters he'd had with Chronos' semi-reclusive Ninth Zoalord.

__

-I don't really know what to think about Mr. Luggnagg, Dad. He really isn't around very much.-

-I suppose that's a fair assessment, Kenji.- As well as very true, Imakarum thought but didn't say. _-Would you like the opportunity to get to know Lord Luggnagg better?-_

-Um…- Kenji bit his lip, obviously thinking carefully about the options that he'd been presented with. _-I think I'd like that. Will you be there too, Dad?-_

-As much as I would like to accompany you, I have my own duties to attend to here for the moment. You know that I move around a great deal, Kenji-chan. You're welcome to stay with me, of course; I just wanted to give you the option of going with Lords Luggnagg and Fried'rich if you wanted it.-

-Well, um, when would I have to leave, Dad?-

-Two days. That's when Lord Fried'rich and Lord Luggnagg will be leaving to inspect the facilities at the Pillars of Heaven.-

-What's that?-

-That, Kenji-chan, is what Chronos' base in Chicago is called,- Imakarum said, slipping his fingers into Kenji's fringe and playing with the loose strands of hair.

__

-Oh. Can I think about if I want to leave or not?-

-Of course you can, Kenji. Take as much time as you need, but you have to keep in mind that Lord Fried'rich and Lord Luggnagg will be leaving in two days.-

-I will, Dad.- Kenji smiled, leaning over to kiss Imakarum on the cheek. _-Thanks!-_

Imakarum smiled, even as he briefly hoped that Kenji would decline the offer. But that wouldn't be very fair to Kenji, to keep him from seeing how other areas of Chronos were run simply because he would be lonely without his son by his side. Quashing the thought, Imakarum turned his attention back to Kenji.

__

-Would you like to go back to our room and play? I've got some work to do here, but it's not anything I think you'd be interested in.-

-What is it, Dad?-

-I'm going to be speaking with the scientists that work here.-

-Oh. That does_ sound really boring, Dad.-_

-I told you it would be, Kenji-chan,- Imakarum said, chuckling with gentle good humor.

__

-I think I will_ go back to our room, Dad.-_

-That's a good boy,- Imakarum said, patting Kenji's head as his son leaned in to kiss him on the cheek again.

Watching as Kenji left, Imakarum smiled briefly; then he turned his mind back to his current task. The periodic interrogations of the scientists had been one of Lord Hamilcal's more inspired ideas. To make certain that all of the human research staff at this facility were all truly loyal to Lord Alkanphel's cause and eliminate those who were not, Imakarum would question them about their habits and proclivities. The anti-rebellion virus, while it was coming into wider use, was not quite so well established in certain areas as to be a useful means of keeping control of the many humans that Chronos employed. The clandestine activities of Drs. Halverson, Henderson, and Sanderson, as well as the outright defection of Prof. Odagiri and his followers – not to mention the fiasco with Yamamura in Arizona – had persuaded Lord Hamilcal to put the anti-rebellion virus into use in all of Chronos' human staff. For now, though, it was Imakarum's duty to make certain that the humans serving Lord Alkanphel, in whatever limited capacity that they were able to do so, remained loyal to their cause.


	71. Second Thoughts

Kenji, sitting on his dad's bed as he held Kaji and played Super Mario Brothers on the Game Boy Dad had bought for him, paused the game and looked up as someone came in.

"Oh, hi Mr. Luggnagg," Kenji said, waving.

"Hello to you, little boy," Mr. Luggnagg said, as he walked over and sat down on Dad's bed. "How has my favorite little Zoalord been doing, eh?"

"I'm your favorite? Really?"

"Of course you are," Mr. Luggnagg said, patting Kenji's head. "I would be very happy if you came with us to the Pillars of Heaven."

"But…" Kenji looked down slightly. He liked it when people were happy, but he would miss Dad when they weren't together. "Well, can Dad come, too?"

"Your father has a great deal of work to do," Mr. Luggnagg said, putting a hand on Kenji's shoulder. "I don't think that he would really have the time to come with us to this place. Of course, you _will_ be able to leave if you are feeling lonely without your father."

"Okay," Kenji nodded. "Can I have a little more time to think about it, Mr. Luggnagg?"

"Of course you can, my boy," Mr. Luggnagg said as he patted Kenji's head again. "Still, I hope that you do decide to come with us."

Then Mr. Luggnagg left. Kenji looked at where he had been standing for a few seconds, thinking about things. Dad would miss him if he left, and he would miss Dad, but Mr. Luggnagg seemed to really want him to come. He and Mr. Fried'rich were both really nice, and it might be kind of fun to go to the Pillars of Heaven and see how it was run. Maybe… well, Dad seemed to be kind of okay with him going. And Mr. Luggnagg seemed to really want him to go. Maybe he should try and talk to Mr. Purg'stall. Looking back down at his Game Boy, Kenji turned it off and set it down on the bed. He'd get back to that level later, but now he needed to go talk to Mr. Fried'rich—maybe he would be able to help him decide.

As Kenji left his room, looking for Mr. Fried'rich so he could talk to him, he remembered that Dad would be expecting to find him back in his room.

__

-Dad?-

-Yes, Kenji?-

-I'm going to go talk to Mr. Fried'rich now, okay?-

-That's fine, son. Just tell me when you get back if I'm not in our room to meet you.-

-Okay!-

Smiling, Kenji headed for the nearest elevator. Dad had said that Mr. Fried'rich was usually in the top of the building, so that was where he was going to start looking. It would be nice to talk to Mr. Fried'rich again—he was always nice. And Mr. Fried'rich had helped a lot when he had made the Alvix model Zoanoids. He hadn't even told Dad about them, though Dad was one of the leaders of Chronos, too.

Kenji fidgeted a little during the boring elevator ride, but when some people in long, white coats stepped onto the elevator with him, he turned to watch them.

"Hi!" he called, waving to the people who had just joined him in the elevator.

"Hey there, little guy," the brown-haired man scientist said, waving back to him.

"Good morning," the lady said over her shoulder.

"Where are you headed up to, Kenji?" the man asked.

"I'm going to go have a talk with Mr. Fried'rich."

"Oh?" he looked curious. "What are you going to talk about? Or is that a private matter?"

"Umm," Kenji chewed on his fingertip, trying to think of a way to explain what he wanted to talk to Mr. Fried'rich about.

"I'll understand if you don't want to talk about it. It's probably something strictly between you Zoalords, eh?"

"Well, not really. It's just- I don't really know what to say about it," Kenji said.

The man looked like he wanted to ask some more questions, but the lady put her hand on his shoulder before he could say anything else.

"I don't think we should be bothering our young friend anymore," she said.

"I'm not really bothered," Kenji said.

He really wasn't. The elevator rides were always so boring, and he was glad to have more people to talk to while he was in there.

"Where are you guys going?" Kenji asked.

Mr. Fried'rich's office was all the way at the top of the tower, and Dad's room was ten floors below that. Sure, sometimes it was fun to watch the flashing lights that told everyone which floor they were on, but Kenji always liked having someone to talk to.

"Funnily enough, we have to have a meeting with Lord Purg'stall ourselves," the man said, smiling.

Kenji smiled, too. "Oh. Can I come in with you, then?"

"I don't think you'll want to come in with us, Kenji," the nice man said. "We're going to be talking about grown-up things in there. You'd probably get bored before we've finished our third sentence. Why don't you wait out in the anteroom, and we'll call you in when we're done?" The doctor looked over at the other doctor, and when she nodded, he turned to look back at Kenji. "Well, I'll call you when we're done."

Kenji thought about it. It would be nice to see Mr. Fried'rich when no one else was there, since Mr. Fried'rich always seemed to act a little different when there were humans in the room with them. He didn't do it around Zoanoids, which Kenji always thought was kind of funny, but then the Zoanoids were all nice to him. Some of the humans would look at him funny when he talked. None of them did it when he was with Dad, but then all of them seemed to be a bit scared of Dad anyway, though Kenji didn't really know why.

"Okay," Kenji said, smiling.

If Mr. Fried'rich and those doctors were really going to be talking about boring grown-up things while they were in that room together, then Kenji really didn't want to be in there with them. Besides, maybe one of the Zoanoids would want to play with him. That would be fun! Bouncing in place a bit, Kenji looked up at the flashing elevator light and saw that they were at the top of Cloud Tower now. Waiting politely for the two doctors to get off, even though they _were_ just humans, Kenji got off the elevator and scampered over to the rows of soft chairs that were waiting for him on the other side of the room. This was where Dad had said that people waiting to talk with Mr. Fried'rich would have to stay if he was busy.

Dad had also said that Mr. Fried'rich was busy a lot of the time, so that meant that the two doctors were probably going to have to wait to meet with him, too. Maybe they would play with him; that would be fun. But when Kenji saw the two of them walking into Mr. Fried'rich's office and the man turned to wave at him before the door closed and he couldn't see them anymore, Kenji didn't think he'd be seeing them again. Most of the doctors didn't seem to like him very much; the Zoanoids were a lot nicer. Bouncing in the chair and already starting to get bored, Kenji got the feeling that there was someone watching him. Looking around, Kenji saw a man in a suit sitting in the chair next to him.

"Hi!" he said, waving. "You're a…" Kenji nibbled his lower lip, trying to think. "Valvatos! You're a Valvatos, aren't you?"

"Got it in one, kiddo," the Valvatos said, smiling back at him. "So, what brings you all the way up here? And without your dad, even? I can't remember the last time I saw one of you without the other."

"Well, Dad's down doing boring stuff for Chronos, and Mr. Luggnagg and Mr. Fried'rich want me to come with them to some place called the Pillars of Heaven. Well, Mr. Luggnagg really wants me to come; I don't know what Mr. Fried'rich wants. But Dad can't come, so I wanted to talk to Mr. Fried'rich. To see if he really wanted me to come."

"I don't know why anyone wouldn't want to spend time with you; you're a nice kid," the Valvatos said, patting Kenji's head as he smiled. "Still, I'm sure that Lord Purg'stall will understand if you want to stay here with your Dad. He's a real nice guy, you know."

"Yeah," Kenji said, smiling. "I've met him. Dad introduced me."

"Glad to hear it, kid."


	72. Due Consideration

Sitting back in his seat after he'd looked at the door, wanting to see if the doctors had come out yet, Kenji leaned his head against the wall and stared up at the ceiling. He was already starting to get bored.

XxXxX

As he arrived back in the Genesis Tower, the seat of command for his Africa Section, Luggnagg de Krumeggnik chuckled to himself. It would be very easy to get Imakarum's little whelp to follow him and Purg'stall to the Pillars of Heaven when they left. All he had to do was to convince the boy that the journey would be far lonelier without him: the boy's own sentimental nature would make him come with them without fail.

It would be particularly simple to draw the three Guyvers to the Pillars of Heaven, and under the cover of an attack by those creatures, it would be equally simple to kill that fool Purg'stall. Also, with Imakarum's whelp in the same vicinity, it would be simplicity itself to make it appear as if the boy had been the one to fire the fatal blast. It would be very interesting to see what Supreme Overlord Alkanphel made of that action. There was some fairly obvious favoritism displayed in the way the child was dealt with—favoritism of the very same kind that was displayed for the boy's father Imakarum, in fact—and it was debatable whether the little Zoalord would be punished for what would seem to be his own transgression at all. The fact that Fried'rich van Purg'stall was one of the closest friends of their Supreme Overlord _would _undoubtedly be taken into account, however.

It would be very interesting to find out what the boy's ultimate fate was to be when he brought word back to Chronos of little Ingriam Mirabilis' deed. Even Supreme Overlord Alkanphel would not be likely to overlook such a thing—Luggnagg rather doubted that their Supreme Overlord's tolerance of the boy's antics would extend to high treason and murder. If they did, he doubted that even the Supreme Overlord of Chronos would be able to keep control over all of his Zoalords. The fact that their lives were in the hands of a child who had been given power that he was seemingly completely unable to control would doubtless be the catalyst for either the child's execution or a rebellion by most of Supreme Overlord Alkanphel's Zoalords. Either way, things were bound to become quite interesting once he and the boy returned from the Pillars of Heaven.

Luggnagg would truly enjoy seeing what happened once they returned to Cloud Tower.

XxXxX

Once Fried'rich had finished his meeting with Dr. Travers and Dr. Tennyson, a meeting that had involved nothing more than their scheduled and unremarkable reports, he called for Kenji to be sent in. He had a feeling that he knew what Imakarum's son was so eager to discus, but he would let the boy-Zoalord bring it up for himself. Imakarum may have coddled him, but that was his prerogative as the boy's father. Fried'rich was not such, and had never pretended to be.

"Good morning, Kenji."

"Hi, Mr. Fried'rich!" the young Zoalord said, waving and smiling with equal enthusiasm.

"Did you want to talk to me about something?" Fried'rich prompted.

"Well…" For a moment, Kenji seemed to be considering exactly what he was going to say. "Do you _really _want me to come with you to the Pillars of Heaven? Because Mr. Luggnagg said you did, and he told me that _he _really wanted me to come. But, do _you_ really want me to come, Mr. Fried'rich?"

Fried'rich considered the boy in front of him. Imakarum's son was quiet and rather soft-spoken, at least when one found him in a calm state of mind. When he was excited, then he was just like any other child of his age. Still, the boy was dedicated to their cause (those parts of it that he understood and was permitted to know), and educating him about the operations of branches other than those that made up the Japan Section would be useful in the long run. With his parentage, the boy was bound to have some sort of high position in Chronos when his mental growth finally matched his physical. It was therefore best that he was fully educated for when he took that position. Now, it only remained to convince Kenji himself to come along.

"Yes, I think I would rather appreciate your presence. Your father _has _given you permission to come, has he not?"

"Yeah," Kenji confirmed, nodding. "Dad said I could come. He said he'd miss me." The child looked rather downcast as he said that. "But he did say I could come."

"It _is_ only natural for your father to miss you in your absence," Fried'rich stated. _Truthfully, I would be worried about you if he did not,_ Fried'rich mused to himself. "Still, since he has given you permission, I feel no qualms about inviting you along. Now, the only question that remains is if _you_ would like to come with us." It had to be the child's own decision. "Would you like to, Kenji?"

"I- I think I would," the young Zoalord said, sounding more uncertain than Fried'rich would have liked.

He decided to ask again—he wanted to make absolutely certain that this was what the boy _actually_ wanted and that Kenji was not simply volunteering himself because he felt that that was what Fried'rich desired of him.

"Are you really certain that this is what you want, Kenji?"

"Well, Mr. Luggnagg said he really wanted me to come," Kenji said, looking a fair amount more plaintive than Fried'rich would have preferred. "Do you not want me to come, Mr. Fried'rich?"

__

How to best explain this, Fried'rich wondered to himself. "I _do_ want you to come with us to the Pillars of Heaven, Kenji. It would be a worthwhile learning experience for you, but I want this to be _your_ decision. What do you really want to do? Would you like to come with Luggnagg and me, or would you like to stay here with your father?"

"Mr. Luggnagg said-"

"Kenji!" Fried'rich cut in sharply. "What do _you_ want to do?"

"I- I think I want to come," Kenji said, staring down at his hands in his lap.

"That was really all you needed to say, child," Fried'rich said, making his voice gentle so he wouldn't startle the boy and most likely undo all of his hard work.

Walking out from behind his desk, Fried'rich gently embraced Kenji—the boy had always seemed to be more comfortable with physical reassurances in addition to verbal. _-I am very proud of you, little one. I know how much work it took for you to admit something like that.-_

-Um, thanks, Mr. Fried'rich.-

Letting go, Fried'rich laid a hand on Kenji's right shoulder. "I am certain that you will enjoy your time at the Pillars of Heaven with us, child. Why don't you go tell Imakarum your decision?"

"Okay, Mr. Fried'rich," Kenji said, nodding but still sounding uncertain. _-Do you think he's going to be mad at me for going away?-_

"No, Kenji. I honestly think Imakarum will be proud of you for showing some independence," Fried'rich said, though he was not sure that that would be the case.

Though Imakarum might wish to think differently, the Twelfth Zoalord did honestly seem to prefer that Kenji depend on him for any and all things. It was not an especially healthy relationship, but then Kenji _was_ still very young. Perhaps children did depend more on their parents in these modern times; Fried'rich would have been the first to admit that he had not had the chance to become acquainted with any parents from this era.

XxXxX

Imakarum, having finished his work – with only three executions having to be performed on the traitors hidden among Chronos' loyal scientists – and made his way back to his room in the absence of a new task to complete, sat on his bed and waited for Kenji. From the thoughts of his son inevitably came thoughts about what Kenji might be doing in two days. There was a chance that he would still be at Cloud Tower and they could go about their normal routine. There was also the chance that Kenji would decide to travel to the Pillars of Heaven with Lords Fried'rich and Luggnagg. Imakarum had already promised himself that he would not attempt to stop Kenji from traveling if it was what his son truly wanted. The fact that he would miss Kenji notwithstanding, his son would be safe in the company of even one of the other Chronos Overlords; two would be more than ample protection. Besides, Imakarum was certain that there would be tasks that he could immerse himself in while Kenji was away. Things that would take his mind off how much he would miss his son if Kenji decided to leave.

The sound of someone at the door, combined with the quick, excited tread that he had come to know so well, let Imakarum know that Kenji had returned at last. Now it was time to find out just what his son had decided to do…

"It's good to see you again, Kenji-chan," Imakarum said, watching as his son stepped into their room and closed the door behind him.

__

-Daddy?-

-What's wrong, Kenji?-

-I don't want you to be mad, but-but I said that I'd go with Mr. Fried'rich and Mr. Luggnagg to the Pillars of Heaven.-

-I see,- Imakarum said, standing up and walking over to where Kenji stood, still in the doorway and looking down at his feet. _-I could never be angry with you, my Kenji-chan. In fact, I'm pleased that you chose to take this opportunity to learn more about how Chronos is operated.-_

-You mean you're not mad?-

-Of course not,- Imakarum said, gently steering Kenji over to their bed and helping him settle down on it. _-You're going to be working for Chronos someday, after all. It's only fitting that you learn as much about the company as possible now. Going to the Pillars of Heaven is a very good way for you to start; just remember to ask Lords Fried'rich or Luggnagg about anything that you don't understand.-_

-I will, Dad.-

-Good boy. Now, would you like to do anything special? We have a whole two days to spend together.-

-But don't you have work to do?-

-I could take the day off to be with you if I wanted to,- Imakarum explained gently. _-Lord Hamilcal did ask me to take on these tasks for him, but it was more like a favor than something I'd be required to do.-_

-Oh. But I thought you worked for Mr. Balkus.-

-Lord Hamilcal is_ technically several ranks above me, but I serve Lord Alkanphel more directly. That gives me more latitude than I would have otherwise had.-_

-What does that mean?-

-It means I can do more things than I normally could.-

-Oh.-

-Now, would you like to do something special for the two days that we're going to have together before you leave, or would you just like to just spend them normally?-

-Can we go to the park and play?-

The park. Imakarum paused, looking at Kenji's eager, innocent expression. He didn't want to disappoint his son, not during the little time they would have together before Kenji departed for the Pillars of Heaven, but he also knew that there was a great deal of danger for his son outside the walls of Chronos—from the Guyvers of course, but mostly from Aptom. The Lost Number had tried to devour Kenji alive twice by now. Both times he'd gotten close had been because no one – or at least no one competent; the thought of those witless Zoanoids made Imakarum grit his teeth even now – had been there to protect Kenji. Still, the fact that Kenji would be under the direct protection of two Zoalords did a great deal to ease his mind about sending Kenji out to America without him. Still, that didn't mean he would be as blasé about his son's safety as he had been last time.

__

-I suppose that I could find a place that we could play,- he said, still rather dubious about the idea but not wanting to disappoint Kenji if it could be at all avoided. _-Will you wait here for me?-_

-Sure, Dad,- Kenji said, nodding and smiling in that cute way he had.

__

-Good boy,- he said, reaching out to pat Kenji on the head.

Turning to leave, Imakarum took a last look back at Kenji. He saw that his son had climbed back into their bed and settled himself in it, playing with the Game Boy that he'd gotten for his belated sixth birthday. Smiling at the image, Imakarum left the room in search of a suitable place for himself and Kenji to play.


	73. Leave Time

As he moved away from the place where _yet another_ of his "selves" had been killed, Aptom seethed. It was just one more thing to hate about that little Zoabrat, one more reason for him to want to eat that little annoyance and have done with it already. It wasn't just a question of gaining the little brat's Zoalord powers now – oh, no – now it was a matter of pride. He wasn't going to be beaten down by some snot-nosed little daddy's boy who could barely handle himself in a fight and was too stupid to know when to run. He'd beaten the vaunted Hyper Zoanoid Team Five, after all. They'd been hailed as the best Chronos had had to offer, and now they were all a part of his vast array of Zoanoid powers. All except Zektor, but that really didn't matter since he'd gotten a good enough taste of that bug to be able to replicate him. Now he was going to get that little Zoabrat and make _him_ a part of his body, too. Not only would that severely piss off his former "employers", it would provide him with some needed variety in his diet.

Moving again, Aptom tried to figure out a way to separate the little Zoabrat from his dad – as in keep him incommunicado – for long enough to eat the little bastard. It wouldn't be all that difficult. At least, that was the impression he'd gotten from dealing with the kid those first two times. He'd just have to find the right words to say… Of course, finding the right words would have been easier if he'd actually been a people person. There was always the chance of asking 'Freezer or Feline Face, but if those two soft hearts ever found out just who he was trying to sweet-talk, things were going to go sour between them. Especially since both of them knew just how and – more importantly – _what_ he ate. No, if he wanted to have that rarest of rare treats, he was gonna have to earn it for himself. It was only a matter of how…

XxXxX

Their foray into the park and the ice cream shop Kenji had seen and then begged him to make a stop at, was now over. They had ended up staying at a hotel for a half day, since Kenji had gotten tired from all the food he'd eaten and wanted to rest. He had ended up having to drag one of the other guests out behind the hotel, break his neck, and throw the body into a Dumpster because the man had been making lewd comments about what he and Kenji were going to do in their shared room. He'd almost been forced to do the same at the ice cream shop, this time to a woman who had commented that what he and Kenji were doing was "disgusting". The only thing that had saved that stupid human's life was in fact the presence of his son at the same table. But he _was_ going to remember that foolish woman's face, her voice and mannerisms, and if he ever met up with her again he was going to rip her limb from limb.

Purely for Kenji's sake, of course.

Now that they were back in the safety of Cloud Tower, Imakarum was helping Kenji to pack. It was really too finicky a task for Kenji to manage all on his own, and the fact that his son had been stymied by the choice of which other stuffed animal to bring aside from Kaji – though it _was_ incredibly cute – had made that fact very plain. Now that he was folding some of Kenji's favorite clothes and putting them away inside the suitcase he had bought for the boy, Imakarum took another look over at Kenji.

He was still standing in front of the small shelf that Imakarum had helped him to fill with stuffed animals, staring at each one in turn.

"Are you going to take another one of your stuffed animals, Kenji-chan?" he asked. "Or will you just be taking Kaji?"

"I don't know yet, Dad," Kenji said, turning to look over his shoulder. "I'm not sure if I should take the bunny or one of the kitties."

"Well, which one do you like better, Kenji?" Imakarum asked, smiling slightly since he suspected he already knew the answer. "What type of animal?"

"I like kitties!" Kenji said without hesitation.

"Well, then there's your answer, Kenji-chan." Patting his son's head, Imakarum placed the last of his son's folded clothes in his suitcase and locked it. "Here," he said, handing the suitcase to his son as he kissed him on the crown of his skull. "Have a good time, my son. And be safe?"

"I will, Dad," Kenji said, smiling.

Imakarum hugged Kenji, holding him, delaying the inevitable moment when he would have to say goodbye. Even if it _was_ only for a few days, he would be lonely for Kenji's company while his son was away. A knock at their door drew his attention, and Imakarum looked over Kenji's shoulder as their door opened to admit Lord Fried'rich.

"I apologize for my intrusion, Imakarum," the Fifth Zoalord said, "but I was wondering if your son was prepared to leave yet."

"I think he is by now," he said, bowing to Lord Fried'rich. _-Please watch out for him; I don't know what I'd do if he came to any harm.-_

Lord Fried'rich nodded, taking Kenji's hand. "We're going to have to leave now, child. I trust you've said your goodbyes."

"Yes, Mr. Fried'rich, I have."

"Good," Lord Fried'rich said, smiling. "Then we will take our leave now."

XxXxX

With Kenji's hand gripped loosely in his own, Fried'rich led him out of Imakarum's room. Their Twelfth Zoalord really did tend to worry too much about his son's health. It could not be natural for a parent to worry so much about their child, to say nothing of the effects it had to be having on Imakarum's own mental health. This temporary separation would probably be very good for both of them: Imakarum would see that his son was able to survive without his constant supervision, and Kenji would see that he did not need to rely so much on his father. It would be a learning experience for the both of them.

Once they had reached the main elevators, the boy started to become agitated. He was young, so he could not truly be expected to know the value of patience, but now was as good a time as ever to instill in him that virtue.

"Kenji, settle down," he said, gripping the boy's shoulder more firmly as he began to fidget.

"Sorry, Mr. Fried'rich. I'm just really excited! It's not every day I get to go to a whole new branch of Chronos!"

The boy paused for a moment, nipping at the tip of his index finger the way he always did when he was thinking about something and unsure if he would be allowed to speak his mind. Fried'rich knew that the boy's fear of being rejected by those he loved kept him silent more often than not. He was easy to read, even without probing his mind for the answers.

"Is there something troubling you, child?" he asked, knowing the answer but wanting to be courteous.

"No. It's just that… do you think Dad's going to be lonely while I'm gone?"

This old routine again. It grew tiresome, but it was truly not the boy's fault for the way he had been raised. "I'm certain that your father will be fine. What are you most looking forward to seeing at the Pillars of Heaven, Kenji?" he asked, deciding to give the boy something else to think about.

"Well, are there different Zoanoids there?"

"Indeed," he said, nodding.

He was pleased that the child could be distracted so easily from thoughts about how his father would react. He truly did need to learn that his life did not begin and end with his father, though at times it could seem that Imakarum worked to cultivate that very impression.

"What kinds of Zoanoids are there?"

"The main models in that area of the world—what is known as a Section in Chronos terminology—are Vikarr, Devold, and Valvatos. The incidental models, which are made in far lesser numbers, due to their lower rate of success during processing, or their being made redundant by the later mass-produced forms, are Lu-kill and Heffex. Female Zoanoid production has so far been limited to the Halsha and Javisis forms."

"I never got to meet any girl Zoanoids while I was here," Kenji said, sounding only mildly troubled. "Do you think I'll get to meet any while I'm over there?"

"It's quite possible," he said. "But you must remember that the female Zoanoids are intended to take care of internal disputes with the scientists and human overseers. They are not truly meant to be seen. And there are far fewer of them then there are of the male type."

"How much fewer are there?"

"Since there are currently twenty-three thousand Zoanoids in that area of the Section, there are in fact two thousand three hundred of the female variants."

"Oh," the boy said, seeming to have trouble taking this new information in.

"I can explain the function of the female Zoanoids in more detail once we reach the Pillars of Heaven, Kenji," he stated, knowing that there would be very little chance that the boy would be interested in such mundane things as the inner workings of Chronos when there would be far more engaging sights visible from the windows of their helicopter.

They would be flying to the Pillars of Heaven from the heliport atop Cloud Tower, and such a thing was bound to excite Kenji, no matter how many similar journeys he and his father had undertaken together. He was still a child, after all.

"I think I'd like that," the boy said, smiling. "Thanks, Mr. Fried'rich."

"You're quite welcome."


	74. A Child’s Sight

Once the elevator had stopped and they were able to get off, he saw that Luggnagg had elected to wait for them in the heliport. Their transport had been arranged beforehand—he'd made certain that the staff had known of this as far in advance as was feasible.

"It's certainly good to see you again, Fried'rich," Luggnagg greeted cordially. "And it's very nice to see that _you _decided to come along with us." The dark-skinned Zoalord smiled, stepping forward to pat the boy's head.

"Thanks, Mr. Luggnagg," Kenji said, obviously pleased with the attention he was receiving.

"Oh, and I brought something for you to eat while we travel," Luggnagg said, smiling as he handed over a small brown bag.

"Thanks a lot!"

He guided the young Zoalord to his place inside the helicopter, helping him to get settled in the seat and making certain that he knew how to work his harness. With the way his father tended to coddle him, it was likely that he was unaware of how to use one. Merely seeing the act repeated however many times was not really equivalent to being taught. However, the boy was rather adept at handling the task. It was good to know that he could take care of himself to that extent, at least.

Briefing the pilot on his assigned course (it was likely that Luggnagg had given him directions already, but it was always best to be certain), Fried'rich turned back to Kenji when he heard a loud crunch. The food that Luggnagg had given him to eat was evidently chocolate chip cookies.

"Mind you don't eat them all before we arrive," he said, mildly incensed that Luggnagg would have been so cavalier as to give the boy sweets.

He was not looking forward to dealing with a hyper child-Zoalord once the boy had managed to fully metabolize the cookies. Dealing with him in his usual frame of mind was taxing sometimes, as he'd managed to forget almost completely the curiosity and eagerness of the young. Understandable, of course: he _had_ spent most of his time dealing with those who had left childhood well behind years ago. Now that he was going to be spending so much time with Kenji, though, he would have ample time to relearn of it. Perhaps it would be best if he thought of the boy as an apprentice; he _was_, after all, going to be teaching him about the inner workings of Chronos.

Turning to watch the boy as he continued to eat, apparently heedless of Fried'rich's earlier admonition, the Zoalord in question sighed inaudibly. It would not do to have the boy disobeying him so blithely once they had reached the Pillars of Heaven—another thing that he would have to teach Imakarum's son. _No time like the present, I suppose. _Reaching out, he took the bag of cookies; it weighed enough that he knew there were at least three more contained therein.

"Why did you take my cookies, Mr. Fried'rich?" the child asked plaintively.

"Yes, why did you take the boy's food?" Luggnagg asked, turning a look that Fried'rich took to be mildly reproving in his direction. "He seemed to be enjoying it."

Fried'rich sighed. _-You know as well as I do that children tend to become overstimulated when they are given sugared treats with nothing to eat beforehand. And I know for a fact that the only thing Kenji was doing before he came to meet with us was packing his things.-_

To Kenji he said, "We're going to have dinner when we reach the Pillars of Heaven." Such had been their plan even if Kenji had decided to remain at Cloud Tower; he was not lying to the boy. "You will spoil your appetite if you eat any more."

Such a thing was not true in his experience: Zoalords could consume as much food as they pleased. It was something to do with their advanced metabolism—Dr. Balkus would likely know all there was to know about it. But such were more things that Kenji would not be able to understand at this juncture, and it was best to restrict their conversation to lighter topics at this time.

"We're going to have lunch there?" Kenji asked, bringing Fried'rich's attention back to the present moment from whence it had wandered.

"Indeed," he said, smiling gently; the boy really was quite charming when he was calm. "Once we have had the opportunity to settle into the base, we will eat."

"Are we going to stay there real long?"

"About a month or two, I would say," he said, watching Kenji's face for any signs of hesitance. He did not know how the boy would react to the thought of being separated from his father for so long. "Though you _are_ free to leave whenever you wish."

Since he was still observing Kenji, looking for any unhappiness that Kenji might be expressing, Fried'rich saw Luggnagg reaching over to pat the boy's head. It was good that he was making such a concerted effort to connect with the boy. Imakarum would doubtless appreciate knowing that his son was making more friends among the Great Council of Chronos. At the very least, the man would appreciate the fact that Kenji was well liked and would very likely be well protected.

XxXxX

As he continued to observe the young Zoalord, making gestures that would ingratiate him to the child and make the boy more inclined to trust him, he also kept an eye on Fried'rich. If his fellow Zoalord was going to insist on making an impasse of himself, then he was going to have to find ways to work around him. Getting the boy to mistrust the Zoalord of Lightning was obviously out of the question: the demonstration of affection between them was too deep to be feigned, even ignoring the fact that the boy was too naïve to feign anything in the first place.

It would be far too time consuming to work that way. He would just have to make sure that he arranged to have some time alone with the boy. This plan of his was audacious; that was what Khan or Hiyern were likely to say. But then, what was the point of eternal life, such as was enjoyed by all Zoalords, if it was not the risking of that same thing? Life without risk quickly became boring; an eternal one would have of course been interminable.

Moreover, playing these kinds of games with _Imakarum's_ son – protective as a mother bear, that one – given his obvious favor in the company, was quite a risk. It also promised quite a gain if he played well, but Fried'rich would definitely prove to be an obstacle to their plans. He was far too loyal to Alkanphel to ever be trusted, as were Waferdanos, Shin, and most of the rest of the Council. The only one who might have been willing to see things in a different light was Gyou, and that man had been far too impulsive – far too forward – to ever be of any use to the kind of long-term plans that he, Khan, and Hiyern had set up.

Long-term was indeed the best way to do things such, especially when your own colleagues were privy to your innermost thoughts as a matter of course. None of them would be so intrusive as to actually read another Zoalord's mind without his expressed consent, but the threat of exposure was always there. It was part of what made things so interesting, and most of the reason that Gyou had failed so spectacularly. Supreme Overlord Alkanphel was _not_ a man to be trifled with.

The boy seemed to be settling down now, having been placated by Fried'rich with the promise of having his sweets back after he'd eaten some proper food, so that was one less thing to stress over. The easiest way to make any child like you was to give them sweets, after all—something he'd learned over his time observing this boy and a few other children. Turning to look out the large windows of the transport, Luggnagg settled himself deeper into his seat. One way or another, this was going to be a most interesting journey.

XxXxX

Shin had been glad to see his old friend Fried'rich, and meeting the son that Imakarum was so clearly fond of was something he _had_ been admittedly curious about, so having them both here – even if it _was_ merely to conduct an inspection – was quite a treat. Even though they would be leaving for the Japan Section once they had inevitably ascertained that everything in the North American Section was in order, it was good to have the company of other Zoalords.

Krumeggnik, as was his wont, had chosen to dine alone. Shin was perfectly content with that, since he and the Ninth Zoalord had very little in common.

"So, how have things been at Cloud Tower?" he asked, looking to Fried'rich while doing his best to make it clear that Kenji was welcome to contribute to the conversation as well.

"Things are going rather well," Fried'rich said, pausing for a moment.

"You've no reason to be troubled over such good fortune on your part, my friend," he said, trying to reassure Fried'rich that, in spite of the many things that needed managing in this Section, he bore no ill-will toward him. "Kenji, you haven't said much," he stated, turning to regard Imakarum's son with curiosity. "Are you enjoying your stay here?"

"Yeah," the boy said with a nod, and Shin was pleased to note that he had the courtesy to swallow the food in his mouth before speaking. "It's really nice here. I…" He paused, clearly unsure what to say. "I kinda miss Dad, though." Oddly enough, the boy's gaze was focused on Fried'rich as he said this. "Is that okay, Mr. Fried'rich?"

"It's perfectly understandable, my boy," Shin said, reaching over to touch the boy's shoulder. _-What have you been saying to him, Fried'rich?-_

-Only that he needed to decide for himself if he truly wanted to come here,- Fried'rich paused, his eyes flickering briefly over the youngest of Chronos' Zoalords. _-I think we all know that the way he clings to his father is not particularly healthy for either of them.-_

-I suppose,- he conceded.

Anyone could see that Imakarum Mirabilis was far from the ideal father, or even the most stable of people, for the way he clung to the boy spoke of deep-seated fears. Considering the way the two of them had lived while they had been on the run from Chronos – an unfortunate situation that, but it was in the past now and the past could not be changed – it was understandable that they would feel that way about the other. It still did not make the relationship all that healthy, but understanding helped. Perhaps this temporary separation would prove beneficial to the both of them.


	75. Preparations for the Attack

Sitting down on his bed, which was nice and soft and even had blankets in his favorite colors, Kenji tried to think of where to put Mr. Fluffles. There was a shelf high on the far wall, but there was nothing on it and Mr. Fluffles might be lonely up there. So he couldn't leave him alone up there, especially since he wasn't going to leave Kaji up there. There _was _a table next to his bed, Kenji noticed, just like in Dad's room.

Setting Mr. Fluffles down there, Kenji plopped himself down on the bed.

__

-Dad?-

-How are you settling in, Kenji-chan?-

-I'm okay. Mr. Fried'rich and Mr. Shin have been really nice to me. And the views here are really neat!-

-I'm glad you're settling in so well, Kenji-chan,- Dad said, and he did sound happy, but he also sounded kind of sad, too.

__

-Are you lonely, Dad?-

-I'm fine, son. It's just not the same without you here, but you'll be back in Japan Section soon enough, so I can tolerate it well enough.-

-You mean you're really okay?-

-Yes, Kenji. I'm really okay.-

He got the feeling that Dad was smiling at him, so he smiled, too. It felt like dad patted him on the head, but he wasn't really there so he couldn't really have done that. But then, Alkanphel had done things like that without touching him, so maybe Dad was learning how to do it, too.

XxXxX

When he came to visit the boy in his room, Luggnagg had not known exactly what he would see when he looked in on the boy. It _was_ rather interesting to speculate, though; the boy was so clearly dependant on his father for even the smallest things that a mere separation like this was more than likely to be causing him quite a bit of mental anguish. It would hence be very simple to slowly insinuate himself into the child's life while he stayed at the Pillars of Heaven. Getting the young Mirabilis to trust him would merely be the first step, and although it would be a large one it was not the whole of his plans involving the boy. Still, the other steps of his plan would of course be contingent on the successful completion of the previous step, and gaining the trust of the young Zoalord was indeed the most important of them.

"Kenji?" he entreated, knocking on the threshold of the open door. "I was wondering if you would like me to show you around the Pillars of Heaven?"

"Oh, hi, Mr. Luggnagg," the boy-Zoalord called, raising his hand to wave even as Luggnagg took the liberty of entering the child's temporary quarters. "Dad and I were just talking."

Of course, the boy really _was_ little more than an appendage of his father. It would only make sense that he would want to keep in contact with him even when they were separated by a continent and several hundred miles of ocean.

"I'm certain your father would want you to learn as much as you could about the workings of other Sections of Chronos while you are staying here," he said, trying to sound reasonable while fighting not to smile too widely and possibly spook the boy. "Why don't you come with me and I can show you around?"

"Okay, Mr. Luggnagg," the boy said, taking his outstretched hand with a bright smile.

Phase one was looking quite successful at this point.

XxXxX

Once they had all gathered together inside this transport van that Agito had provided for them, he'd hoped that Mr. Ego would stop pestering him about what Aptom had gotten up to, but he'd only taken up his tirade over the link, probably cause he didn't want Sho to know what was going on with Aptom. Of course, Ryan himself wasn't too keen on letting Sho know what had gone down in the woods, mostly because he'd get all worried about it. The guy always tended to worry more than was really healthy. If he kept it up, pretty soon he wouldn't be able to make any decisions for fear of how they _might_ affect someone else. Ryan tried to take some pressure off him whenever he could, but that still didn't change the fact that Sho Fukamachi – his many redeeming qualities notwithstanding – was a chronic worrywart.

It was just best not to tell him some things.

__

)I guess you'd know best about these kinds of things, kid.(

Settling himself deeper into the seat, Ryan stared out the passing scenery and continued to ignore the rather pointed questions that Agito was firing at him over the link. The tinted windows of the van made it nearly impossible to see anything outside, but that also meant no one would be able to see in. That, of course, meant that no one from Chronos would be able to spot them while they were making their way to these Pillars of Heaven that Chronos had set up.

That was a good thing.

Yawning as he settled back into his seat, Ryan swept his gaze over his two companions. Sho looked anxious, as usual, but Agito seemed more pissed than usual. It wasn't something most people would have been able to spot, but he'd stayed with Mr. Ego more than long enough to know when he was pissed off. And Mr. Ego was _well and truly_ pissed off. It wasn't any skin off his back, but it was kind of fun to watch, like his own private floor show.

"We'll be arriving at Chronos' Illinois stronghold very soon," Mr. Ego said, turning to subtly glare at him once he noticed he was being watched.

Ryan, for his part, waited for Sho to turn away and then stuck his tongue out at Mr. Ego.

__

+You're embarrassingly juvenile, Crouger.+

+Yeah, well, if I wanted your opinion on the matter, I wouldn't be trying to studiously ignore you, now would I, King Bastard?+

+I've tolerated your unwillingness to discus the matter of Aptom for long enough, Crouger. Now, you will_ tell me what he tried to do to you.+_

+Yeah? Or what?+

King Bastard _glared_ at him for that one; apparently no one had called his bluff before and it was making him pissy. Fuck him.

__

+Your mother depends a great deal on the protection that I provide for her. I imagine that Chronos would be very interested in possessing such a valuable hostage.+

I'm going to remember you said that, you twisted little fucknut. Gritting his teeth behind his lips, so the bastard wouldn't know what he was planning for him, Ryan dropped his eyelids to half-mast and sat back in his seat._ +Are you threatening my family, Agito?+_

+Only if you fail to tell me what I want to know+ the little shithead said calmly.

__

+Well then, let me put that to you another way: are you inviting me to murder you in your sleep?+

+What?+

It was the first time he'd ever seen Agito, the Almighty Bastard King, actually show some form of emotion. Admittedly, it wasn't anything like the raw fear that most people would have been feeling once they'd heard him ask that question, but the dawning apprehension he was getting was almost as good, at least considering who it was coming from.

__

+You'd really be amazed how many things you can do with common household items. Oh, like driving a chopstick into the brain of a certain someone. Or smashing their head in with a cast-iron frying pan.+

+Are you threatening me, Crouger?+

+That depends; are you threatening my family?+

Agito glared at him again, but he didn't say anything. Turning back to the walls of the truck, or at least the painted-over windows, he decided that he would do at least one other thing to a certain someone, just to make sure that he wouldn't ever try to threaten what was left of his family again. After what he had in mind, only a spectacularly idiotic person would think to try to make any threats against him or the people he loved.

Once the truck had stopped, leaving him with no more time to think up a proper punishment for His Royal Assness, he made a mental note to remember what he had been thinking about later. Ducking out of the van, which he noticed was parked under the shelter of an old, rusted out warehouse, he followed Sho to where King Bastard was signaling them to meet.

"We're going to have to move quickly if we don't want to be spotted by Chronos," King Bastard said, hustling them out of the van and into the deep shadows of the warehouse by where they were parked.

Following along with Sho and King Bastard as they made their way out of the abandoned – or at least abandoned-looking – warehouse, Ryan took a bit of time to look at the place where they had taken refuge. It wasn't much, really, but that was a good thing as far as not getting caught by Chronos went. If it wasn't much, they were bound to overlook it. Most people seemed to be doing just that, so that made this place a very good spot for that whole hiding-in-plain-sight thing.

"All right," King Bastard said, holding his arm out to stop Sho but basically ignoring him. "This is close enough. We'll cover the rest of the distance in the air. The Pillars of Heaven are the two tallest buildings in the area, very easy to spot. Fukamachi, you take the middle section. Crouger—" Here he paused a moment to level a glare at him; Ryan grinned back at him. "You come in from above; anything that tries to defend the top levels will be your responsibility."

"And I guess _you're_ going to be coming in through the sewers, right?" he drawled.

"That's correct, Crouger."

"Well, as much as that suits your personality," he said, grinning again while King Bastard gritted his teeth, "why are _you_ taking the easiest way in, I wonder?"

He deliberately left the question hanging; King Bastard would get it, unless he was all ego and no brains. Of course, he'd proved that that wasn't the case the first time they had ever fought together. He was pretty much the epitome of the Brilliant Asshole, a name Ryan had coined for someone who knew everything there was to know about some cerebral thing like chess or books, or in this case combat strategy, and seemed to go out of their way to fail at relating to other people.

He related to Sho pretty well, but then Sho wasn't exactly what anyone would call confident, at least not most of the time. He could be pushed into kicking some ass, sure, but that took a lot of pushing, and he tended to go a bit overboard those times. That was probably why the Almighty Bastard King seemed to like him so much: you just had to give him a good shove off the deep end, point him in the right direction, and get the hell out of the way.


	76. Soldiers of Heaven

+Good luck out there, Sho.+ __

+Yeah; thanks. Good luck to you too, Ryan.+

They split up after that, and he climbed to the top of a stack of crates and activated his Gravity Controller. Flying out through one of the windows of the warehouse, he pushed the thing for all the speed it could give him. That turned out to be quite a lot, as he managed to get a fair distance into the air before he leveled off somewhere. "Somewhere" was really high: he was probably about a hundred feet over the tops of even the tallest buildings.

The buildings they were supposed to attack were pretty damn obvious, painted a sort of halfway shiny silver and positively towering over anything else in the area. If what King Bastard said was right, and there wasn't really any reason to doubt him when he was talking about things like that, there were going to be an ass-load of Zoanoids in between them and whatever their goal was. Of course, it was pretty easy to figure that their goal was to pound the place into rubble—the underground levels, too. It was starting to become obvious that all Chronos bases had underground levels, even the ones that didn't look like they'd have that kind of setup.

Focusing on the building, he could just see Sho arrowing straight at the middle of the skyscraper on the left. Since the guys on the right were obviously going to start taking exception to that kind of thing real soon, he'd just have to get to them before they got to Sho.

__

)Things are going to get real interesting when you hit that building, kid.(

)Thanks so much for stating the blindingly obvious, Snake-head; I really needed to hear it.(

)You've never faced off against the soldiers in one of Chronos' top-tier bases. Whether you think so or not, kid, you do_ need to hear this. The top five floors of the building are going to be filled with elite Hyper Zoanoids. Getting through them with all your limbs intact is going to take everything you've got—you may even want to use that weird new upgrade you got from that spaceship… thing.(_

)That reminds me, I still haven't managed to think up something good to call_ that thing. I sure as hell can't just keep calling it "that thing".(_

)You can name the thing later, kid. The way you're moving, you're probably in range of the flying Hypers by now.(

)Imagine_ my joy.(_

Just as his own personal voice-in-head-guy decided to shut up, a swarm of bird- and bug-type Zoanoids came screaming out at him, in some cases _literally _screaming. It was kind of annoying, but it wasn't like he hadn't been expecting it. These Zoanoids had all probably heard what he and his fellow Guyvers had done to their people, so it wasn't really that surprising that they'd try to puff themselves up any way they could.

It was annoying as hell, but not really surprising.

XxXxX

The blaring of the attack alarms, so sudden as to surprise him into dropping his fork, drew Talvoss' attention completely—his and every other Hyper Zoanoid's. It was one hell of a way to start the day. Not that any of those goddamned Guyvers seemed to give a shit what they thought or felt. Leaving his food for the janitors to clean up, Talvoss joined the stream of elite Hyper Zoanoids on their way to defend the Pillars of Heaven. This place was one of Chronos' most important bases.

Overlord Shin was here a lot – like he was currently – and there was also the matter of Lord Fried'rich being here at the moment as well.

Talvoss' duty – like that of every Zoanoid, Hyper or not, in the building – was to defend the two Zoalords with his life if it came down to it. Not really a happy thought when facing a _single_ Guyver, let alone three, but it was what he had signed on for when he'd become a Hyper Zoanoid. Everyone knew that; some people just didn't like to think about it. It was pointless to deny the truth, though—pointless and stupid and Talvoss didn't let himself indulge in that.

Transforming, Talvoss launched himself out the window along with the rest of the flying Zoaforms. There were a few Standards mixed in with the group he was part of, Valvatos and Brelimos and Devold, but mostly it was he and his fellow Hypers. His sharp eyes spotted the Guyver quickly – that new kid with the gray armor, Ryan Crouger – but he didn't bother saying anything since he knew the others would have spotted him just as soon as he had. Saying it would just annoy them.

XxXxX

The air was full of flying Zoanoids. He could see some Hypers and a whole hell of a lot of Standards. He'd have been defending the building with the rest of them – personal aide to a Zoalord or not, he would have still had a duty to Chronos over all – if he hadn't been permanently bonded to Ryan and all. He didn't know whether to thank Aptom or damn the bastard to the depths of hell.

On the one hand – Ryan would have made some crack about hands at this point, if he'd been paying any attention – there was much less risk of dying while he was like this. But as he watched the kid slice the head off a Valvatos and kick it into the crowd like a soccer ball, he had to admit that there were downsides. Killing his people, his _comrades_, wasn't something he liked to participate in. Even if he wasn't really the one doing the killing, it still grated—still hurt, in its way.

XxXxX

Snake-head had been unusually quiet while he was fighting. He'd have been willing to call it brooding, if he hadn't known that they could take naps while the other was in control. He could really be doing anything – for a certain limited definition of "anything", anyway – while he was slashing his way through these guys. Then again, Ryan knew that _he_ wouldn't be all that happy if some guy was using _his_ body to kill a bunch of other humans, so maybe he was really brooding. It wasn't as if he could do anything about it either way, though, so it was probably best that he stopped thinking in that direction. Those kinds of thoughts could quickly get him killed.

Blasting his way through a persistent knot of bird-type Zoanoids with the Mega-Smasher, he made his way closer to the building. It was kind of funny, thinking that these guys had once been human and were now some kind of weird bird guys who were hell-bent on killing him.

Of course, it wasn't really like _he_ was all that human himself, anymore.

Taking another deep breath and slicing off the head of something that bore a startling resemblance to a parrot, he waded farther into the battle. He wasn't done with this thing yet.

XxXxX

When he looked up, he could see Ryan. The other Guyver had already engaged what looked like a full three battalions of Chronos' arial troops.

__

+Ryan, do you want any help up there?+

+Nah, I'm fine. You just keep your mind on what you're doing.+

+I will.+

Turning his attention back to the building in front of him just as the Guyver's hyper-sensors reacted to a sudden charge of Zoanoids coming from above him.

__

+Crap! I think some of them might have made it past me+ Ryan said, sounding more annoyed than anything. _+You might have some interesting company coming soon, Sho.+_

+Thanks for letting me know, Ryan.+

Extending his Vibration Blades, he sliced the heads and wings from the Zoanoids diving to attack him. Ryan was doing a good job of trying to protect him, but even he couldn't be everywhere at once. So now it was up to him to defend himself.

He was just glad that Mr. Murakami wasn't here.

XxXxX

As he made his way through the sewers, he tried not to think about Crouger's words. The younger Guyver was simply an annoyance and clearly trying to provoke him. Despite the filthy stench in these tunnels, this was indeed the best way to access the lower levels of this particular Chronos base. Nothing that Crouger said or did could make him forget that fact.

Also, since he was currently in Guyver form so that he could easily deal with any and all Zoanoids that would be protecting the lower levels, he was not required to deal with the stench at all. It was much more sensible to travel this way, since there were likely to be at least some guards down in the laboratories to ensure that the scientists stayed at their assigned tasks, especially in light of both Odagiri's and Yamamura's defection, as well as that of the scientists in the bottommost levels of the now-destroyed Relics Point base. No one in Chronos would ever wish to be responsible for such a debacle as that to reoccur.

So there was no reason to believe that he would have an easy time of things once he emerged from the sewers into the places where he could be seen by any of Chronos' agents. Human or non-human, the distinction was starting to become less important as this war of theirs dragged on.


	77. Frontline Battle

He really hoped that King Bastard was holding up his end of the fight. He'd landed in the top-level offices and really wasn't looking forward to having a bunch of Zoanoids swarming up at him from below. _Speaking of which… +Sho, how are you holding up down there?+_

+I'm all right, Ryan. How are you doing?+

+Well, I'm finally inside. Whether that turns out to be a good thing or a bad thing remains to be seen, of course.+

+Good luck, Ryan.+

+Right back at ya, Sho. Take care of yourself.+

+I will.+

As the link between them fell silent, Ryan started to hear the pounding footsteps that let him know that he was going to have more company of the Zoanoid kind very soon. Readying himself even as he extended the Vibration Blades at his wrists, Ryan took a running leap at the door just as some of those green lizard-guys burst in through what was left of the door.

__

It just never ends. With a rebel yell, he dove back in on the attack with his wrist-blades fully extended and slicing before any of the incoming Zoanoids could think to try to dogpile him. Driving his hand into a hairy ape-man's chest and ripping out what looked like a piece of his left lung, Ryan danced back out of the way of a punch from one of the thing's compatriots and limboed his way under a slash that would have pierced _his_ chest if it had connected. Jumping sideways to the right, he fired the Head Beam into the skull of another one of those green lizard-monsters. When two more of a similar type – only with big spikes along their backs and upper-arms – came rushing at him, Ryan quickly decapitated them with his wrist-blades. These ones were easy; it was the hulking white ones with the big pinchers – those Enzyme IIs – that he didn't want to have to deal with. Anybody with half a functioning brain cell would hate those things, with what they could – and would – do to you.

Still, the fact that they were all swarming into the room with him meant that he had to deal with them, acid or no acid.

__

)Fun times, eh, kid?(

)Yeah, a regular barrel of laughs,( he shot back, mentally rolling his eyes.

He knew the guy was just trying to break up the tension, but he really could have tried to find a less annoying way to do it. Still, it was probably the thought that counted, or something sappy like that. But now wasn't the time to think about things like that; now it was time to make sure he didn't die fighting these damned Enzyme IIs. Sure, Sho had said that they could come back from the dead, but that would be really freaky and would probably hurt.

__

)Yeah, kid. Dying's not one of the things I'm in the mood to experience firsthand.(

Without pausing to acknowledge _that_ particular nugget of wisdom, both since he didn't particularly want to think about the possibility and because there wasn't really anything he could say without sounding like a moron, he sliced the head off of the last non-Enzyme Zoanoid and then moved further into the room.

Turning back to the group of Enzyme IIs, he charged up the Pressure Cannon and blew the heads off of two more that happened to have the severe bad luck of standing too close together. He was then forced to jump over the sprays of acid that the five other Enzymes started firing at him, not to mention the stuff leaking from the corpses of the two he'd decapitated.

All in all, not a very fun situation. He certainly hoped the others were doing better than he was at the moment.

XxXxX

When he had managed to kill all of the flying Zoanoids that had been attacking him, Sho started to wonder just how Ryan was doing. He'd sounded fine while they were talking, but then he always seemed to sound fine, at least up to the point where he got himself in more trouble than he could comfortably handle. Sho was just hoping that it hadn't happened again.

__

+Ryan, how are you doing?+

+I'm all right, all things considered+ he said. _+Though you might want to keep your wits about you—there are Enzymes loose.+_

+You've seen them?+

+I'm fighting more than a few of them+ Ryan said, sounding mildly aggravated, but not at him. _+Some of them keep slipping past me, so I'm guessing it's a good bet to keep your guard up, this being a Chronos base and all.+_

+You're right+ he said, sighing._ +Still, I want you to promise me that you'll come out of this alive.+_

+When have I ever not?+

+Ryan, please. I'm not joking about this.+

+All right, all right; I promise. Geez, you are such a mother hen, Sho.+

He didn't know precisely what it was that Ryan meant by that, but he'd sounded annoyed. Sho had never seen anything wrong with worrying about the people who were important to him, but Ryan didn't seem to see things that way. Agito was the same: neither of them seemed to understand just how dangerous Chronos was to them. The people that staffed Chronos were ruthless; they had no concept of mercy or kindness.

He'd learned that more than well enough after seeing what they had done to Mr. Murakami and Kenji. What Chronos did to the people who tried to oppose them was really too horrible to contemplate sometimes. There were times Sho really, honestly wished that _he_ could forget what had been done to him, all because he'd had the sheer misfortune to come across the Guyver Unit they had been looking for; forget what had been done to his friends and family all because they had been close to him.

But that would mean that their deaths really _had_ been in vain. Yamamura and Murakami, his father, Kenji, and all of the people Chronos had killed or subjected to the horrors of processing—all of their sacrifices would have been worthless if their lives were forgotten. And so, no matter how much the memories hurt him to carry sometimes, he _would _bear up under the weight. And that was why he had to look out for Ryan and Agito, because he didn't want to be forced to carry their memories, too. That would be too heavy a burden even for him. But there was no real way he could explain that to such self-sufficient people as Ryan and Agito, so there was really nothing he could do but keep trying to protect them and hope he didn't annoy them too much in the process.

Continuing on his way into the building, fighting his way past all of the Zoanoids who were trying to guard it, Sho hoped that Ryan and Agito would both come out of this battle alive.

XxXxX

He would not have been expecting a Guyver attack in this of all places—it was far enough away from the known territory of the Fourth Guyver that Fried'rich would have thought it safe. Apparently he would have thought wrong. The two Japanese Guyvers, along with Ryan Crouger, were even now attacking this building. Shin was out in Washington, overseeing the operation of the facilities in that area, as well as looking over the plans for the great skyscraper that would be constructed once X-Day had given Chronos control over the world.

That meant that it would be left to him to protect this facility from the Guyvers. Only one of those warriors was near him now, but Ryan Crouger had proven himself to be just as much a threat to Chronos' operations in this area as any Guyver, so Fried'rich didn't feel as charitable toward the boy as he once had. He was _certainly_ not going to allow the child to go rampaging through a Chronos facility that he was able to protect. There had been more than enough Zoanoid lives lost to the Fifth Guyver's actions.

Turning just as the door to his right was blown open by what sounded very much like a Guyver's Pressure Cannon, Fried'rich found himself staring into the emotionless pale-pink eyes of the Fifth Guyver. Watching as the boy leapt out of the doorway and spun to confront another group of Enzyme IIs, Fried'rich was displeased to realize that the boy had found a rather simple way of killing the creatures that Dr. Balkus had been quick to praise as the perfect weapons against a Guyver.

It was time that he made his own contribution to this battle, time that this boy learned that there were dire consequences for challenging a Zoalord. He may not have had Imakarum Mirabilis' battle prowess or the sheer, overwhelming firepower of the Guyver before him, but that did _not_ make him helpless. Before the boy could start to search for any new Zoanoids to slaughter, Fried'rich was upon him. Battering the gray Guyver with a barrage of Gravity Bullets, he was unsurprised when the boy broke off his attack and tried to come in from a different angle. Ryan Crouger _had_ always seemed to know when to fight head-on and when to back off and attempt something new.

The boy would have been a great asset to Chronos, and perhaps before all of this unpleasantness had started he would have been willing to work with them in whatever limited capacity the other Zoalords – Dr. Balkus and Lord Alkanphel in particular – would have been willing to trust a Guyver. Of course, it was far too late to consider things such as that; the boy had been driven inexorably away from Chronos by the actions of those who had been trying to recruit him.

There was little chance that anyone who worked for the organization would be able to convince him to join forces with them after the way he had been treated. That was a vaguely disheartening thought, but it was the reality of the situation, and Fried'rich for all his optimism could not deny reality. The boy would have to die if Chronos was ever to succeed in their goals.

Closing with the Guyver as he tried to run, Fried'rich started to notice something odd. It was the sense of a Zoanoid, he was certain of it—a Hyper, if his senses were correct. Only there were no living Zoanoids in this area: the Fifth Guyver had been very thorough in his elimination of the personnel in this area.

Just as he was starting to wonder what on Earth could be going on, the Fifth Guyver fired a volley at him. A volley of _electricity_. The ribbons of electrical energy flashed out of the armored hands of the gray Guyver, racing along the walls like mad lizards, and Fried'rich had to raise his forcefield to deflect them.

"How in God's holy name did you manage-"

"Ah! A good magician _never_ reveals his secrets," the Fifth Guyver said, laughing and even having the audacity to wag his finger at the Zoalord of Lightning.

It was simply not possible that this last Guyver possessed powers so different than his compatriots. Dr. Balkus had studied this Guyver with too much diligence for that to be the case. There had to be another explanation for the phenomenon that he had just witnessed, but the boy held nothing in his hands, and beyond that there were no broken wires or cables that he could have taken hold of.

Before Fried'rich could even begin to contemplate the puzzle of just how the Fifth Guyver had managed to throw _electricity_ of all things, the boy was moving again. Moving and firing off yet another blast of electrical energy. And, yet again that sense – the feeling that there was a Hyper Zoanoid in this very room with him – came back all the stronger. _Could it be possible…?_

Reaching out with his telepathic powers – since there would be no harm to him if this venture failed, and he _was_ honestly curious to know if his telepathy would find anything to hold onto within the boy's mind – Fried'rich found that there was indeed something about the boy's mind that he could take hold of. But only in the most tenuous manner, as there was something about the boy's mind that disrupted his efforts at contact. Most likely, it was the fact that the boy himself was a Guyver, so it was truly intriguing that the child had the characteristics of a Hyper Zoanoid. Perhaps he had possessed latent Hyper Zoanoid genes, and fusing with the Guyver had activated them somehow? It was a question for some other time, of course, a time when he wasn't facing down the Fifth Guyver in open combat.

He would also have to speak to Dr. Balkus about the possibility; the elder Zoalord would most definitely want to know about what he had discovered. But again, he had to deal with the boy himself first.


	78. First Death

__

)Kid, you feel that?(

)Yeah. But if you're going to ask me what it was_-(_

)I know_ what it was,( _Elegen sent, cutting him off. _)I just never expected him to try anything like that. I think you might have to finish this fight alone, Ryan.(_

)I don't know what you're so worried about,( he said, recognizing the apprehension both from the Hyper Zoanoid's use of his name and the fact that he was somehow aware of the Hyper Zoanoid on an almost subconscious level. It probably had something to do with them sharing a brain. _)It didn't seem like he could do much of anything to either of us.(_

)Yeah, but if I know the Zoalords, the first thing any one of them would do in this kind of a situation like this is report the situation to Dr. Balkus. And the first thing that that_ old bastard is going to want to do is dissect you so he can find out just how the hell it is you can do what you've been doing. And, I don't know about you, kid, but the _last_ place I want to end up is on one of that sadist's dissection tables.(_

)I guess you have a point, Snake-head,( he sighed. _)Still, I think we made a pretty good team while we could.(_

)Thanks, kid. Means a lot.(

Once he'd regained full control of his body, Ryan took a brief moment to be thankful that he hadn't been out of the Guyver while he and Elegen had been having their little pow-wow. Things would have been a whole hell of a lot worse if that had been the case. Of course, if he hadn't been in the Guyver, then there was a good chance that he wouldn't have been in this fight at all.

__

)Focus, Ryan!(

)What's it look like I'm doing?!(

Firing the Pressure Cannon, he wasn't all that surprised when the guy – Elegen had said that his name was Fried'rich van Purg'stall, and he was a Zoalord – raised some kind of a barrier. Elegen had given him a rundown on the known powers of Zoalords in general and this guy in particular when he'd come blasting into the room where this guy had been standing. So it wasn't like he was _completely_ unprepared going into this. Still, it would have been nice to have a bit more information than "they can control Zoanoids with their minds, and they're really tough". Still, some was better than nothing in this case. Ryan just hoped it was enough to help him keep his skin intact.

"Ryan Crouger, if you surrender now, I'm certain I could convince the Council to spare your life."

__

You have got_ to be shitting me. _"Bite me, you prissy, pointy-eared, Schwarzenegger-wannabe! Or better yet, bite _this_!"

All but _throwing_ a blast from the Pressure Cannon at the gray-haired – but somehow young-looking in spite of all that – man/Zoalord in front of him, he swore softly as ol' Purgy blocked it with his shield again. That thing was _really _starting to grate on his nerves. Dodging to the left and right as Purgy fired some more of those weird Pressure Cannon-looking blasts at him, the ones that Sho had said were called Gravity Bullets, he found himself wishing for a shield of his own. It would have made life a whole hell of a lot easier for him, that was for sure.

Still, wishes definitely weren't going to help him win this fight, so they weren't something he let himself dwell on. The only things that were going to win this, or at least get him out with his armored skin intact, were his left and right fist, the weapons his Guyver had on it, and his wits. That last one was probably going to end up being the most important: the best weapons in the world wouldn't do diddly squat if you couldn't hit what you were aiming at.

Or if your target had some kind of forcefield that blocked whatever you threw at him.

Just as he saw the guy's shield go down and was about to launch another blast from the Pressure Cannon, Ryan felt Purg'stall's hand slam into his neck.

"I'm sorry, child," he said, and the weird part was that he actually sounded _sincere _about it. "But I cannot allow you to endanger the operation of this facility."

He had a _hand_ through his freaking _throat_, but somehow in spite of all that he was still alive.

"I hate to break this to you, pal, but you haven't managed to kill me yet."

Raising his arm with some effort – there was still a _hole_ in his neck, even if it didn't affect him as much as a certain Zoalord probably figured it would – Ryan began charging up the Pressure Cannon. He noticed that ol' Purgy was looking at him funny again, kind of sad and scared and determined all at the same time. He didn't have more than a few seconds to ponder the significance of that particular look before the Zoalord had raised his arm and fired one of those Gravity Bullet things.

__

That left Ryan to contemplate the truly unpleasant feeling of having his chest blown out through his back. Being knocked back against the wall was pleasant by comparison, something that he didn't have to give much attention to. Unfortunately, that left him with _chest out back_ and that sucked.

__

)Kid, you still alive?(

)Kind of a surprise that you_ are, Snake-head, but yeah, I'm still here. Don't know for how much longer, though… looks like… everything's going gray at the edges…(_

He thought Elegen was yelling at him, and then the floor exploded, which was really weird. Even the giant, gaping _hole_ in his chest was starting to hurt less now… that was probably a bad thing… but for some reason… he really couldn't bring himself to care…

XxXxX

When he felt the signals from Crouger's Guyver – signals that were easily interpreted as pain and fear – Agito hesitated for just a moment before deciding to assist the younger boy. Crouger was an annoyance, to be sure, but at this point he was still useful. Still, that begged the question of just what had made him react that way in the first place.

Annoying and impulsive Crouger may well have been, but he was a deadly opponent for even a Hyper Zoanoid to face. The only things that had that had been able to even come close to overwhelming him were the Enzyme IIs, and then only when they were deployed in large packs. It could end up that _that_ was what Crouger was facing that made him so apprehensive.

Of course, the fact that he was most likely walking into a battle between Crouger and several Enzyme IIs was _not_ an idea he liked. Still, there was always the chance that these Enzyme IIs – he had no doubts anymore that that was what was what was causing his compatriot so much concern – had been sent in a large enough group to give the younger Guyver trouble.

Blasting his way through the ceiling, Agito almost stopped in mid-flight when he felt the younger Guyver die. He'd not thought that Crouger would have so much trouble with even so many Enzymes as there had to have been gathered there. As the last floor separating him from Crouger disintegrated – blown apart by a shot from his Pressure Cannon – Agito found the true cause of Crouger's demise.

The Zoalord named Fried'rich van Purg'stall actually had Crouger's body in his arms, cradled like some helpless, oversized infant. Considering the fact that Guyver V's self-defense mode had yet to activate, that Zoalord was probably relatively safe. Still, the fact that he would be fighting in the presence of a Guyver with no living consciousness to control it was not something that he was eager to do.

Still, Chronos could _not _be allowed to lay their filthy hands on any Guyver. The personal problems that he and Crouger had with one another would not become an excuse for allowing Chronos to learn more about the Guyver than they already knew. Lisker had allowed them to find out far too much. Still, taking Crouger's body back from this Zoalord would probably be something of a challenge, especially given the fact that Guyver V's self-defense mode was very likely to activate if he or Purg'stall made any sudden moves. Which, given the fact that he was going to have to fight the Zoalord for possession of Crouger's body, was an almost-inevitable certainty. Still, there was nothing for it now. He would have to fight this battle, and he would have to win, no matter _what_ kind of obstacle Guyver V ended up presenting to him.

Firing his Pressure Cannon at the Zoalord, Agito was unsurprised when Purg'stall raised his forcefield. The purpose of his attack had been to give himself some breathing room while he contacted the third member of their group.

__

+Fukamachi, I need your help.+

+What is it, Agito? Is something wrong? What happened to Ryan? I think I felt something from his Guyver.+

+Crouger's dead, Fukamachi+ he said flatly, knowing that the other Guyver would not have known what the feeling of Crouger dying was. _+One of the Zoalords is attempting to claim his body. I need your help to deal with him.+_

+I'll be there in a minute, Agito.+

+Good.+

The link with Fukamachi went dormant as Agito turned his attention back to the battle with Purg'stall.

"So, Guyver III, you've come to reclaim the body of your comrade."

"Yes," he said flatly. "And, I suggest you give him back to me before his self-defense mode activates. You'd be at the mercy of the Fifth Guyver, and the self-defense mode has none."

"I would thank you for your concern, if I thought that it were genuine," the Zoalord said, obviously not believing a word he had just said, though whether he believed it or not was immaterial.

Guyver V would kill him in any case, just as Guyver I had killed any and all Zoanoids that had been unfortunate enough to cross his path while the weak will of Sho Fukamachi had been unable to control it. And Crouger, while a great deal stronger than Fukamachi could ever hope to be, was still not as ruthless as an uncontrolled Guyver.

"It's your own affair whether you believe me or not," he said as Guyver V's Control Medal lit up, "but, I would suggest you take what I have said into account."

It almost looked as if Purg'stall was going to say something else when Guyver V fired his Head Beam. Then the silver-haired Zoalord all but threw the moving corpse to the ground. Guyver V, however, quickly rose back to its feet.

"I think I'll leave you to him."

XxXxX

The host was in danger. There was an enemy in front, and the host had been severely damaged. Regeneration was in progress, but this enemy would have to be dealt with or the host could be damaged further. The weapons and speed of the Unit were the only things available to protect the host from further damage or destruction at the hands of this enemy; the Unit would not fail the host.


	79. Slow Push

When he heard that Ryan had been killed, he hadn't believed it at first. Honestly, he hadn't really wanted to, but with this new power he was sensing – something much greater than his, Ryan's, or even Agito's Guyvers' – he could see how it could have happened. He just hoped that Mr. Murakami hadn't been sent here.

Mr. Murakami was probably back in Japan with his son. Sho hoped that was true, but there was no real way to tell until he made it to the place where Agito and the enemy – obviously a Zoalord – were fighting. He felt sorry for Ryan; dying was always sudden and painful when you were in the Guyver. He'd have to remember it had happened, since Ryan would need his help to get over this when the Guyver restored him to life.

Blowing a hole in the floor with the Pressure Cannon, Sho flew down through to the next level. He was closing in on Agito's signal, so he knew that Ryan had to be there as well. Unless… unless he had had his Control Medal ripped out by the Zoalord he and Agito had been facing. Then he wouldn't be anywhere.

__

+Agito?+

+What is it, Fukamachi?+

+Was Ryan's Control Medal taken by the Zoalord you two were fighting?+

+No.+

+Agito?+

+What is it now, Fukamachi?+

+Was Mr. Murakami the one who killed Ryan?+

+No. The Zoalord we're facing is Fried'rich van Purg'stall. As I understand it, he became the new overseer for the Japan area after Gyou was killed.+

+Oh. I'm glad.+

And he was, not only because he wouldn't be forced to face Mr. Murakami again – even if he _had_ been the one to kill Ryan, Sho still wasn't sure that he would have been able to fight him; he still remembered the person Mr. Murakami had been – but for knowing who he was about to face. He didn't yet know if this Zoalord, Fried'rich van Purg'stall, was like Gyou or Balkus. He probably was, though.

Punching through the last floor that separated him from Ryan and Agito, Sho flew into the room. The sight that confronted him wasn't really the one that he had been expecting to see: Agito was leaning against the wall on the far right side of the room while Ryan, with a large hole still blown through his chest – a hole that the Guyver was obviously working to heal – was fighting the Zoalord Fried'rich van Purg'stall; Agito knew enough about Chronos that Sho wasn't going to question him on this.

Landing on the floor, just far enough out of Ryan's line-of-sight that the Guyver wouldn't spot him and think he was an enemy, Sho fired a blast from the Pressure Cannon. Purg'stall was obviously too distracted by the rampaging Guyver in front of him to raise any kind of defense. The Zoalord, turning slightly as the Pressure Cannon hit him, seemed to notice Sho for the first time.

"You would be Sho Fukamachi," he said. Sho didn't know what he was getting at, but he didn't like it. "I _am_ sorry for all that you have suffered at the hands of Chronos, but I cannot let even you interfere with the operation of this facility."

Ducking out of the way of a volley of Gravity Bullets, Sho considered what Purg'stall had just said. He _had_ seemed genuinely apologetic about what had happened, but he was a Zoalord and served Chronos. Chronos had done so many horrible things to so many people, from processing Mr. Murakami and his son to sending all those innocent people in Takeshiro to their deaths. Even _if_ this Zoalord was more compassionate than the others, he was still a Zoalord.

He had still killed Ryan.

XxXxX

Finding himself facing three Guyvers, only one of whom seemed to be the type to show mercy – at least according to the reports that Imakarum Mirabilis had made – Fried'rich found himself wishing that Shin had not been called away to Washington on Chronos business. The Fourth Zoalord was the only one he truly trusted to be at his back during a battle such as this was clearly becoming. Still, the fact that it was not to his personal preference was not a valid reason to scorn help that could be freely offered.

__

-Luggnagg, I need your help.-

-I had a feeling you would. This Guyver attack is certainly unexpected, yes?-

-Yes. I would have never suspected that the Guyvers would be capable of moving this quickly undetected.-

-Imakarum would be beside himself with worry if he knew that his son was in the thick of a Guyver attack.-

-Yes,- he said. Imakarum would indeed be angry once he learned that Kenji had been exposed to such danger, even inadvertently. _-Just make sure that he stays within the deeper sublevels of the second tower. I doubt either of us will completely avoid Imakarum's anger, but we may very well be able to mitigate it.-_

-Of course.-

XxXxX

In truth, he had no intention of leaving Imakarum's son in some safe little bolt-hole until this battle was over. This was an opportunity unlike any other, a chance to complete the task that he had been working toward for the whole of the month that they had been staying at the Pillars of Heaven. This Guyver attack, while completely unexpected, was a definite boon to his plans.

Still, he would have to be careful how he went about this: Imakarum's son may have been completely under the influence of the specially formulated tranquilizers that Luggnagg had been giving him – slowly upping the dosage under Purg'stall's very nose, until even the enhanced immune-system that all Zoalords were gifted with was overwhelmed and the boy became dependent on it – but even that could be countered. A large burst of adrenaline, or the boy's transformation into his battleform would make all of his preparations count for nothing. He had to be very careful indeed about what kind of situation he placed the boy in; too much stress would be dangerous in many ways. Still, with the child following behind him like a docile little puppet, it was admittedly hard to think of the myriad dangers that were part and parcel of this operation of his.

Pulling the all-but-sleepwalking boy along by the hand, Luggnagg stepped into an elevator and made for the high-level floors. That was where Purg'stall's mental presence was emanating from, and also where the concentration of Zoanoids seemed to be thinnest. Normally, it was the instinct of any Zoalord to call for as much Zoanoid aid as they could when being threatened by a superior fighting force such as these Guyvers had proven themselves to be. Purg'stall, however, was not such a man to be able to sacrifice the lives of others merely to improve his own chances of survival, no matter _how_ sensible such a course of action would be. It was really a wonder he hadn't been killed long before.

Still, a Zoalord was a Zoalord, no matter how sentimental. And Zoalords were hard to kill.

Facing three Guyvers, however, was a far different matter. It was likely that Fried'rich van Purg'stall, even _with_ all his power, was going to die at the hands of these Guyvers. Still, it was always best to take precautions when you wanted to ensure a particular outcome.

Pulling the boy into the back of the elevator, he pressed the appropriate buttons and sent them riding upward to the battleground. Once there, he would of course be required to find a place to hide the little Zoalord, somewhere he would not be seen, but would still be able to have conceivably fired the shot that would end Fried'rich van Purg'stall's life. It would be an interesting mental problem, to be sure.

Still, for the moment he was free to check the minds of the few remaining Zoanoids – mostly the females, due to their less combat-oriented roles – and see what the situation was like on the upper floors. None of the critical support structures of the building had been damaged, which was a very good thing, as he had no desire to be crushed by falling rubble. Digging oneself out from under fallen building materials was always so very troublesome, even for a Zoalord.

The elevator soon arrived at the eighty-fifth floor, the precise location of Fried'rich's mental presence and where the feeling of power that he had learned from the Fourth Zoalord's mind was associated with the three Guyvers was coming from. Now, all that remained was for him to find a place were Ingriam could be concealed, just out of sight to await the perfect time to make "his" move.

The boy-Zoalord would be almost certainly detected by either the Guyvers or Fried'rich himself if he was merely left around one of the corners. Still, besides the – admittedly important – matter of concealment, there was the matter of believability. The other Overlords were not fools, and Imakarum – though no Overlord himself – would inevitably argue in favor of his son's innocence.

It was quite a troubling thing, this problem that he was faced with. If he did not play this situation out correctly, it was likely to be _his_ head on the metaphorical chopping block rather than little Ingriam's. That would never do; he had no intention of giving up his life, but this kind of an opportunity was not likely to come along again for a long time. It was really too precious to waste.


	80. Travel Time

The Fifth Guyver's chest, still hanging in shreds after he had punctured it with his Gravity Bullet, was healing with uncanny speed. While he had heard the late Commander Gyou's reports about the First Guyver and the way it had been able to regenerate from nothing more than the intact Control Medal, until this point he had not been completely willing to put his faith in them.

It was not that he disbelieved the reports from the former Chronos Japan's Scientific Division; it was merely that he knew Gyou would have been perfectly capable of falsifying such reports. And perfectly willing to do so, as well. With what he was seeing now, though… It was readily apparent that the capabilities of the Guyver had not been overstated.

He knew that this was not the boy he had been confronting when he had first seen the Fifth Guyver in the corridor. For one thing, the boy had been far more talkative when they had initially confronted one another. For another, he knew from the reports made about the Fifth Guyver that the boy's fighting style did not focus solely on brute power. The last, and most obvious, was the fact that the hole in the boy's chest had still not completely repaired itself.

He had learned, through close observation, that Sho Fukamachi was far more willing to do battle to protect others than to protect himself. Still, that did not mean that the boy was not a formidable opponent. He _did_ have someone to protect—even if Ryan Crouger's Guyver unit was in the process of restoring him to life, the boy was still dead. And he was the one that had killed him. In that respect, he could truly understand – if not completely sympathize with – Sho Fukamachi's desire to see him dead.

__

-Luggnagg, where in blazes are you?-

-My apologies, Fried'rich. I had to find somewhere safe to hide Imakarum's son. You as well as I know how angry the man would be if he found that the boy had been injured while in our care.-

-I am certain that Imakarum will appreciate your concern for his son's welfare,- Fried'rich said, relieved that he no longer had to worry about just where young Kenji had gotten himself off to.

Now he only had to hold off these three Guyvers until Luggnagg arrived. He had long since transformed into his battleform, and the holes that the Fifth Guyver had so obligingly smashed in the floors and ceilings above him enabled him to use his full suite of – admittedly rather limited – abilities to defend himself. This building would likely never be fully repaired, not only from the damage his lightning strikes had done but from that inflicted by the Guyvers on their way inside, but it was not a pressing matter.

This facility, as important as it was for this area, would soon be overshadowed by the true Pillars of Heaven. They were to be built in Washington state, after X-Day had given Chronos control of the world. This place had merely been a testing ground for some of the technology – early versions, of course – that was going to be used to support the base planned for Washington.

Still, while this base may have been rather out of date and tottering on the very edge of being obsolete, it was still a Chronos base and was entitled to protection from the forces within it. And, at this moment, those forces included himself, and he was required to do his duty as any soldier of Chronos.

Still, facing these three Guyvers, one of whom was still dead and yet moving, was unnerving even for one such as him. Hitting the dead Guyver with another Gravity Bullet, meaning to delay the recovery of Ryan Crouger and his dangerous breed of sharp-edged intelligence, he was almost surprised to see Sho Fukamachi hurling himself directly into the path of the attack. Surely the boy knew that his compatriot would be well enough after he had been evacuated – after all of the Guyvers had been forced from this place – and left to heal.

XxXxX

When the Zoalord they were facing (Sho had forgotten his name in the heat of battle, and after he had been forced to watch Ryan die), fired that blast at Ryan, he had found himself almost instinctively throwing himself in front of the younger boy. He knew – better than most – that Ryan would be healed and restored to full health no matter what happened, but he still didn't like the idea of that being delayed. He wanted all of his friends to be alive and safe and would do whatever he had to do to make sure that happened no matter what it cost him in the end.

The blast sheared through the top of his left shoulder, and Sho made a soft noise of pain even as he rose back to his feet. He couldn't do this for much longer; even one Zoalord was enough to hold the three of them back, and he could sense that there were two more in the building with them. He needed more power to protect the others, power to make sure that Ryan and Agito would be able to escape this Chronos base safely.

He needed more power…

Sensing something, something on the edge of his perception that felt almost exactly like the Guyver, Sho tried to contact it. It felt… like some memory from a dream. Something like… the dream he had been having when he was in the cocoon. The dream that had been interrupted when he had sensed, through his Guyver somehow, Ryan's distress and the fact that he was in danger. There was something, just beyond the range of even the Guyver's perception, just waiting for him to contact it, just waiting for him to use it.

"Guyver!"

Something burst into being behind him. Sho was almost sure that he could see it for what it really was without even turning around. He knew that it was large, and that it was powerful, and he just hoped that it would be enough to help him get Ryan and Agito out of this trap that Chronos had set for them. This new armor, while it did feel a lot like the Guyver armor he was used to using, felt… more, somehow.

His body tingled in the wake of a sudden rush of energy, and it almost felt like he was being tickled. Now was far from the right time to laugh, Sho knew, so he focused instead on the Zoalord that was standing in front of them. The Zoalord that was even now staring at him – not at Ryan or Agito, but just at him – with a mixture of fear and awe. The Zoalord who looked… a fair amount smaller than he had before.

"What… what in God's name- what _are_ you?"

Ignoring the Zoalord's demands for more information – he would have time to think about just what he had been doing once Ryan and Agito were both free and safe – he tried to sense just what it was this new armor, a new Guyver, was capable of. The Zoalord started firing at them again, and that was when Sho discovered the first thing his new Guyver armor could do.

The Gravity Bullets that had been fired at them—at him in particular—were deflected by the shield that he had just seen spring into being between himself, Agito, and Ryan and the Zoalord who was trying to hurt them. He could still see through the hole that had been blown through Ryan's body, so he knew the younger Guyver wouldn't be rejoining the battle as himself for some time, but he hoped Ryan would be okay when he did finally wake up. But that was silly: he knew from his own experience that Guyvers were always fine after they had been allowed to regenerate. This wouldn't be any different.

The Zoalord they were fighting (Sho couldn't remember his name at the moment), stared for a second or so longer and then tried to strike them with another lightning bolt. The barrier held, and it was at that moment that Sho decided that it was time for them all to leave. This armor he was wearing, while it _felt_ so much more powerful than the Guyver, might have some limitations that he wasn't aware of yet. It was always best to learn everything you could about a thing before you decided to trust your life to it, something Ryan had taught him.

Maintaining the force-shield and backing away slowly, he wrapped his left arm around Ryan's waist and slowly pulled the other Guyver backward. Ryan's Guyver – he could tell that Ryan wasn't quite alive yet from the way the wound in his chest still gaped open – struggled for a second, but then his Control Medal started glowing. The glow was accompanied by the tingle in his forehead that let him know that his own Control Medal was glowing as well. The Guyver that was healing his friend, even as he watched, came along with them quietly after that.

__

+What the hell… Fukamachi, how the hell did you manage to gain power like that_?!+_

+I… I don't really know, Agito. I just— I felt something calling to me. Something almost like the Guyver, and yet not. It happened just as I decided I was going to get Ryan so we could leave.+

+Leave?+ Agito demanded, sounding more angry than Sho had ever heard him sound before. _+What do you mean, leave? This is the best, and most likely the only, opportunity that we will have to destroy the Pillars of Heaven. With that new power of yours, even a Zoalord would be unable to defeat you, and you want us to leave?! What are you thinking, Fukamachi?!+_

+Ryan hasn't revived yet. He's going to need some time before he can fight with us. I can also sense two more Zoalords in this building. I don't know why they haven't attacked yet, but-+

+What does that matter? This new armor of yours seems powerful enough to destroy any of Chronos' Zoalords.+

+Ryan needs to be taken someplace where he can be safe until he heals. And I don't really know very much about this armor I'm wearing. What if it fails?+

XxXxX

Seething, knowing that he would not be able to secure Fukamachi's cooperation until Crouger was brought to a secure location, Agito decided to forgo an argument he knew was futile. It was just like Fukamachi: he had received power that a normal human could never hope to attain, and all he could think of was escape. It was almost the exact same scenario that had played out when the boy had first come into possession of the Guyver itself.

__

+You know that Chronos will never allow us to live freely in this area+ he pointed out, both for practical reasons and because he was rather annoyed with Fukamachi for being so weak-willed. _+They will send tracker-Zoanoids after us; we will be forced to leave the safehouse and find a new place to stay.+_

+I know, Agito, but Ryan needs this. You know what the Guyver is capable of, what it would do without Ryan to control it.+

As much as he hated to admit such a thing, Fukamachi's argument was a logical one. Without a host to exert mental control over the armor, the Guyver would classify any and every moving thing in the area as a potential threat and act accordingly. Crouger, as crude and childish as he could be, was still preferable to a rampant Guyver Unit who was unable to distinguish friend from foe.


	81. Assassin

It was odd, in the extreme sense of the word, to see the Guyvers retreating when they so clearly had the advantage in this battle. Fried'rich knew that he would not have been able to stand against the enhanced Guyver Sho Fukamachi had somehow summoned from some unknown location. Doubly so, given the fact that Luggnagg De Krumeggnik had not yet arrived to reinforce him.

Once the strange, powerful Guyver had left the building, somewhat ironically through the very hole that had allowed him to utilize his lightning bolts, Fried'rich paused for a moment to catch his breath. It would not do to collapse halfway through his search. Luggnagg, though the circumstances had not become as dire as he would have expected, had not come the way he had promised. There had to be a reason, and Fried'rich was going to find out.

Breathing more easily for the time he had taken to rest, Fried'rich turned and made for the last place that he had been able to clearly sense Luggnagg's presence. He found himself sensing something decidedly odd. It was as if Luggnagg had chosen to teleport away, but that was completely impossible—he would have sensed the sudden upsurge in energy as the Ninth Zoalord left. He would have also demanded to know just where the man thought he was going when there was a battle being conducted just a few floors over his head.

As he came closer to Luggnagg's last known position, he began to sense something equally strange: there seemed to be another Zoalord there, but the signal was… blunted somehow or other. It was as if they – whoever they turned out to be – were not really there at all. Making his way to the closest elevator, Fried'rich descended the three floors that separated him from the telepathic signature of the mysterious Zoalord.

He did not know precisely what he would find when he came upon the Zoalord he could not recognize, but Fried'rich was determined to protect the interests of the company he served, and those of Lord Alkanphel, who had made every Zoalord what they were now. Leaving something such as this random element – this unknown Zoalord – was more than likely to endanger everything he and the other Lords of Chronos had worked for all these centuries.

Exiting the elevator, Fried'rich performed a light telepathic scan and quickly located the unknown Zoalord. It was strange: the signature from this Zoalord was only half again as strong as a Proto-Zoalord. He would not have been a challenge for any of the senior Zoalords to subdue; the only one who would find this one a decent challenge would be little Kenji, the only Zoalord who would not have been permitted to challenge him in any case.

As he moved further down the hallway, Fried'rich nearly stopped in his tracks out of sheer shock. For there, standing directly in front of him, was Kenji himself. The boy's hands dripped with blood, and when Fried'rich looked down, he could see the corpse of Luggnagg De Krumeggnik lying at the boy's feet. The Ninth Zoalord's skull had been cleanly split open, and his Zoacrystal was nowhere to be found.

"Kenji— what… what in God's name did you just do?!"

The only thing the boy did in response to Fried'rich's query was continue to stand there like a dumb stump. He didn't know what kind of game the boy was playing, but this kind of- of outright treason could not possibly be ignored. Even the boy's status as the son of Imakarum Mirabilis would not be enough to save him in this situation: he had _killed_ one of the Council. Such things could not be forgiven.

"Kenji, this silence is not going to save you," he stated firmly, even as he prepared to defend himself.

If the boy was willing to kill one Zoalord, there was no telling what else he would be capable of if he found himself backed into a corner. But, oddly enough, there was still no response from the boy. He could not be so naïve as to think that mere quietude would be enough to convince Fried'rich of his innocence. The boy had _blood _dripping from his hands, for God's sake! Nothing would ever convince him that he had not seen what was even now in front of his eyes.

It only served to wear away at his remaining nerves. Fed up with the child's obstinate silence, Fried'rich stepped forward and ripped the sunglasses from the boy's face. He had only a momentary glimpse of glassy, severely dilated eyes before the boy fell, senseless, into his arms. The clatter of something falling to the ground drew his attention, and Fried'rich looked down.

There, at his feet, lay the blood-soaked Zoacrystal of Luggnagg De Krumeggnik.

XxXxX

Waking up was certainly an experience, though not one he was at all eager to repeat. It wasn't so much the dying part – though that had hurt like a son of a bitch, and he wasn't at all eager to have something like that happen to him again – it was more the issue of waking up and not knowing just where the hell he was.

__

+Ryan, are you… awake yet?+

+Yeah, Sho. I'm back. What the hell happened back there, anyway?+

+Fried'rich van Purg'stall showed up, and… he killed you.+

+I already know about all of that_, Sho. I was there for most of it+ _he said, feeling vaguely impatient but trying not to snap. _+I mean, how the hell did we get out of there? I don't think any of those Chronos-types would be willing to just let us go after we'd been busting up the place like we'd just been doing.+_

+Well I… I discovered something new about the Guyver.+

+What?+

+You remember that cocoon we both woke up in?+

+It'd be pretty hard to forget something I woke up naked in.+

+Well, it had some kind of… Guyver-enhancer inside it—some kind of armor. I managed to activate it, and I got us all out of there.+

+Unfortunately, Fukamachi also chose to withdraw before we could do any further damage to Chronos. We will have to leave the safehouse before their agents track us there, which they are no doubt attempting to do even now.+

+Great, so we're going to be stuck moving again?+

+Yes.+

He would have rolled his eyes if he'd had the needed facial muscles. Despite the fact that he didn't really have any possessions, moving annoyed him, doubly so when it was after an extended game of cat-and-mouse, which they were obviously going to have to play if they wanted to get the Chronos goons off their backs.

This was really going to suck.

Once all three of them had settled down, ironically in the same warehouse that they had all started out in, Ryan wondered just how they were all going to get out of this without drawing down a whole ass-load of Chronos guys. Someone had to have seen them coming in for a landing, if they didn't see them when they were flying out of it.

"We'll have to split up," King Bastard said, sounding annoyed.

For once in his life, Ryan found himself completely agreeing with the guy, so he didn't put up as much of a fight as he would have otherwise. The three of them shed their Guyvers, landing on the concrete and standing around for about half a minute.

"We'll move out separately," King Bastard said, looking hard at him and then Sho in turn. "That will mitigate the chances that any of their agents will be able to find us."

"Right," Sho said, nodding and already turning to leave.

Nodding sharply, he turned and headed for the exits. That was one of the many good – well, at times – things about being able to use these telepathy links that they had. Knowing that you'd be able to contact any one of the other people like you, people who were fighting on your side, in half an instant if you needed to was a real comfort when you were moving through hostile territory, especially hostile territory which pretty much encompassed the entire freaking _city_ if what Agito had said was right. Not that he had any real reason to doubt the guy, not with the kind of things he'd been seeing.

Still, his idea of splitting up this deep into the city – surrounded by Chronos goons and without even the Guyver to protect them – wasn't really one he could get behind.

__

+Are you planning for us to meet up somewhere, or are we going to have to find our way out of the city on our own?+

+We will be meeting up at the edge of the city. Chronos' sphere of influence does not currently extend beyond that.+

+You're sure? That building seemed pretty fucking huge. Some of the people outside the city-limits seem bound to be Zoanoids too, don't you think?+

+I would hardly call your knowledge of Chronos "extensive", Crouger.+

Ass. Hole. +Fine, whatever. It's not really my_ life I'm risking here.+_

Rolling his eyes at King Bastard and the universe in general, Ryan sighed as he began to move deeper into the city. There weren't many people in this area of the city, true, but that wouldn't mean shit once he out of the area. Still, it wasn't like he could just call the guy up and yell at him. Well, he could, but it would be stupid and pointless. Cathartic, but stupid and pointless all the same.

XxXxX

Carrying the boy, his hands freshly washed and no longer coated in the blood of one of his fellow Zoalords, Fried'rich made for the helicopter. Kenji still had yet to awaken, and with the way the boy had started to shiver, Fried'rich was growing more worried for him with every minute that passed. It almost seemed as if the boy had fever chills, and the way he had begun to sweat only made his worries for the child's health all the worse.

The fact that he had killed Luggnagg De Krumeggnik and would doubtless have to be interrogated for his transgression would mean less than nothing if the boy died in transit. Zoalords were not even supposed to _have_ reactions like this, their immune systems being strong enough to fight off even the most hardy of viral strains. Even Aptom was not a threat to them anymore, his method of invasion having been dealt with once the new antibodies and immune defenses that Dr. Balkus had developed had been administered to all of the Council. Those immune defenses would not have even been developed if not for the fact that young Kenji had been there for Dr. Balkus to test his modifications on. It was very decent of the boy to volunteer for such a procedure, doubly so when there had been a better than average chance that he would have either died or become a Lost Number as a result of the procedure. Either fate would not have been welcome, especially to his father.

Still, the ailment that he was suffering from was nothing like any fever Fried'rich had ever seen. The boy's body was obviously struggling to purge itself of some foreign agent. What it was still remained to be discovered, but there was no question of what was happening. The only questions requiring answers were those of how and why.

He had taken care to wrap the boy in a blanket before he had taken him to the helicopter, but even as he watched the child's sweat was beginning to soak through. Kenji was obviously in a very bad way, however without access to a Chronos processing facility – not currently possible given how far they were from the Pillars of Heaven – there was nothing to do but wait for Kenji's own physiology to purge itself of whatever was ailing him. Teleportation, which was a strain on any Zoalord's body and mind at the best of times, was of course out of the question.

Settling back into his seat, Fried'rich turned to look down at the tops of the buildings as they passed him by. It would be some time before they arrived at a facility that would be capable of caring for a Zoalord such as Kenji; Arizona was the only place that they boy would have the necessary protection to recover while he was healed from his injuries. Of course, there would still be the matter of his punishment to deal with: Kenji _had_ killed one of Chronos' ruling Council. First, the boy would be healed; then he would be judged.


	82. Research Subject

It had taken a while to get out of the city, and there had been a few close calls with Zoanoids when they had met up, but now they were all out of the city and heading for the old safehouse. They were going to have to move out almost as soon as they got there if they didn't want Chronos goons all up their ass, and no one in their right mind wanted that, so he was feeling pretty calm. Of course, the fact that there were no Zoanoids crowding and attempting to kill him was a big part of that.

When they got back to the safehouse, it was to find a trio of unmarked black vans surrounding the place. Everyone inside was being hustled out, and most of the guys there were looking around furtively as they moved.

"Your guys move fast," Ryan said, shedding his armor as the guys finished loading all of the "normals" into the vans.

"I took the liberty of contacting them while you two were escaping from the city," Agito said calmly. "We will need to move quickly to evade whatever agents that Chronos sends out after us."

"Yeah," he nodded.

He'd spent enough time battling Chronos to know how crazy-determined they were to kill him and his fellow Guyvers, so he climbed into the van without another word and leaned against the left-side wall as they set off. He couldn't help wondering just where they would end up when this trip was over, but as Agito wasn't likely to tell him and he didn't feel like talking, he figured he would just have to wait to find out with the rest of their group. Leaning more completely against the wall of the van, trying to find a way to make himself more comfortable while the metal of the wall bumped against his head with every small dip in the road, he finally gave up in disgust. There was just no way to get comfortable when your head was being constantly banged off a metal wall. Folding his arms and leaning against the wall more firmly so he wouldn't be jostled too much, he turned as someone tapped him on the shoulder.

"What's eating you?" he asked, seeing that it was Tetsuro, and that he looked like something was bothering him.

"I don't mean to disturb you if you're trying to rest, but what happened that made moving like this necessary?"

"We raided those 'Pillars of Heaven' that Chronos has set up in this area," he said, not knowing just how much information Tetsuro had been given and not wanting to make any assumptions. "Sho busted out this weird, huge armor and flew me out of there."

"Sho says you died," he stated, sounding like he didn't quite know what to believe. Or like he didn't _want_ to believe.

"That's pretty much what happened," he said, remembering the way his vision had gone all wonky and faded out after that Zoalord – Purg-something-or-other – had slammed that Gravity Bullet through his chest.

"I thought that might have been the case," Tetsuro nodded, sounding more morose than surprised—something to ask about later. "In any case, I'm glad to see you're alive and well now. Still, was there anything else that went on during your battle at the Pillars of Heaven? Something that would have prompted Sho to retreat before the battle was over?"

"Besides me getting killed, I don't know."

"It must have been you, then."

"Must've been," he said, nodding.

XxXxX

When they finally arrived at the Arizona facility, Kenji's body seemed to have fully purged itself of whatever had been afflicting it. The blanket that he had wrapped the child's body in had been soaked through with sweat, and there was no doubt that the boy's clothes would be in the same state. Now, however, there was simply the matter of getting Kenji into some clean clothes and a proper bed so he could be allowed to recover from what had been afflicting him. And Fried'rich himself needed to convene the Council and tell them of what had happened to the boy. He was no longer convinced that it had been something so simple as mere treason that had been committed. Kenji had obviously been afflicted by something, and when the Council convened he would tell them all of what had been happening to the boy.

It would be cruel and inhumane to do anything less.

He was greeted with the usual deference accorded a visiting Zoalord, and he quickly informed the Zoanoids that Kenji was sick and needed urgent care. The boy was quickly removed from the helicopter and carried into the hangar bay. The Zoanoids made one last gesture of submission to him, before they hurried off with the still-comatose form of young Kenji Mirabilis.

He himself made for the communication room, where he would easily be able to contact the other members of the Council and respectfully request that they meet with him. It was a small part of the reason that he had come to Arizona in the first place: Arizona was the location of the Celestial Hall, where Chronos' grand Council would meet when there was something of grave import to the Chronos syndicate as a whole to discuss.

The fates of both Luggnagg de Krumeggnik and young Kenji Mirabilis were both the sort of thing that all of the Council would need to be informed about.

XxXxX

When he had been put in charge of the youngest of Chronos' Zoalords, Dr. Lloyd Asplund had been extremely pleased. Normally, an assignment dealing with one of the Twelve would have gone to Dr. Hekkaring, someone he wasn't particularly fond of. Hekkaring seemed to get all the interesting assignments, probably a function of his having seniority over all the other scientists except Dr. Balkus. Balkus, however, was one of the Twelve himself, so he didn't really count.

As he continued to push the bed holding little Kenji – and what an opportunity to study Zoalord physiology this would be! – Lloyd looked him over to see if he could make a preliminary diagnosis. The boy looked like he had been suffering from some kind of fever, but that was impossible considering how Zoalord immune systems were designed. There wasn't a virus on earth that could get past those kinds of defenses—not even Aptom, considering the modifications that had been made by Dr. Balkus.

Still, all the signs seemed to point in that direction. It would be _very_ interesting to find out just what could be causing this kind of a reaction in the boy. Once his assistants had managed to transport the youngest of the Zoalords into his laboratory – it was something of a time-share, since he didn't yet have the seniority to command his own space, but he liked to think of it that way in any case – Lloyd hurried over to one of the counters and picked up a sterilized needle.

Taking a quick blood-sample, Lloyd turned as he began to hear the heavy footsteps he had come to recognize and dislike so much.

"Asplund," Dr. Hekkaring said, the sheer indifference of his greeting enough to put Lloyd's back up. "I would have thought that you would have remembered by now that _I_ have authority over development on the levels of Hyper Zoanoid and above."

He'd known that. Lloyd had known it very well; he'd only been hoping that Hekkaring had been away at one of the other bases or deeply involved in one of his experiments and hence unable to come out and bother him or any of his assistants. Apparently, today _wasn't_ going to be the day that he had the chance to study the physiology of one of Chronos' most powerful Zoaforms. Or, perhaps—

"Also, make sure to turn over that unauthorized blood sample you took," Hekkaring snapped, causing Lloyd to grit his teeth slightly.

"Why, of course, Alfred," he said, grinning widely at the man he would have liked nothing more than to punch, repeatedly, in the face. "I was just thinking of your convenience when I took this sample. I just thought that you would appreciate not having to take the sample yourself."

"I'm sure you did," Hekkaring said, putting just enough of a sneer in his voice to make Lloyd hate him just that much more. "The sample, Asplund."

"Here you go," he said, still grinning widely as he handed over the syringe filled with Kenji's blood. "With my compliments."

Turning to leave the room before he did something unacceptably drastic, like leaping on Hekkaring's wrinkled face and clawing out his eyes or one of the many other things he had found himself fantasizing about doing every time the two of them were stuck in the same vicinity for more than two minutes, Lloyd fumed. There had been his best chance of studying at least some facet of Zoalord physiology, the chance to know just what it was that made them so much more powerful than even a Hyper Zoanoid. He'd never truly believed that a simple crystal, even one that had been specifically matched to the specialty of each Zoalord at their creation, could be enough to grant anyone the kind of… near godlike abilities that all Zoalords so clearly had. Still, there would likely be other opportunities.

He would make certain of that.


	83. Tipping Point

The Council had been informed of young Kenji's actions, as well as what had happened to the boy before and after he had ended the life of Luggnagg de Krumeggnik. Now he was left to await the arrival of the rest of the Council and wonder what had become of Kenji since the boy had been brought to this place. Standing up and leaving the communications unit that he had been using, Fried'rich headed for Dr. Hekkaring's laboratory.

He was well aware that Hekkaring, as the highest authority in Zoaform production aside from Dr. Balkus himself, would have been given the task of caring for the young Zoalord and finding out what had been done to him. The laboratory Hekkaring was fond of using was, as luck would have it, merely two floors above where he currently was, so he would be able to find out what had happened. By this time he was almost overcome with curiosity.

It could not have been anything but a deliberate act; nothing other than some powerful – and specifically formulated – tranquilizers would have been able to render even a comparatively weak Zoalord as Kenji so deeply somnambulant as he had been. As much as he hated to even consider the idea of yet another traitor among the ranks of the Council, it was possible that Luggnagg had deliberately introduced some of Dr. Balkus' sedatives into the boy's system. As feckless as he might have been, Kenji was not one to drug himself.

The elevator ride up to the laboratory was mercifully short, and soon he was well on his way to finding out just what had happened to the youngest of Chronos' Zoalords.

"Greetings, Dr. Hekkaring," he said, not wanting to be rude even in spite of his worry. "What have you discovered?"

"The boy has been dosed with a rather large amount of Dr. Balkus' high-strength sedative," the aged man stated flatly, "most likely over a week or slightly more for this dosage. Any more time and his immune system would have filtered it out; any less and there would have been the risk of adverse complications."

So this, then _was_ Luggnagg's doing—Kenji had not known of the existence of such a thing, much less the optimum time and dosage needed to achieve those results. "I see," was all he said. "Thank you for informing me of this."

Hekkaring nodded, clearly becoming absorbed in his work once again. As well he might be: it would take some time to counteract the effects that pronounced withdrawal would have on even a Zoalord. Kenji's own physiology would be of some help in that respect, as it could cleanse itself more quickly than that of any other Zoaform in Chronos, but he would need time to fully recover unless he was placed into a processing-tank.

There was really no call for such a thing, however: it would take time to convene the rest of the Council, and explaining just what had happened would also require some time. He was pleased to know that the boy would be well cared for—at the very least, it would keep Imakarum from worrying himself overmuch or going on the kind of destructive rampage that Fried'rich had learned to associate with either an appearance by Sho Fukamachi or even the slightest hint of a threat to his son.

The man's dedication to his child would have been far more admirable if he had not been so unstable and prone to overreacting. It was obvious that such things were the result of whatever had been done to change Masaki Murakami into Imakarum Mirabilis. He, even with the distance between his own former Section and the location of the former Proto-Zoalord's attacks, knew that Masaki Murakami had been calm and deliberate in his attacks.

Imakarum, conversely, was the polar opposite. Those unlucky enough to be the targets of the Twelfth Zoalord's rage were not likely to survive the experience, and even if they were left alive, they would not be so foolish as to anger him again. Imakarum's temper was swiftly becoming the stuff of legend: to cross him was to court death. It was not an impression Fried'rich would have worked to cultivate, were he in Imakarum's place. Still, anyone with eyes could see that Imakarum Mirabilis was not entirely stable even at the best of times.

XxXxX

He'd let King Bastard know that he wanted to talk to him and had even been so kind as to tell the guy where he would be when he wanted to talk. Now, standing in front of the stove with a pot of water that was just starting to boil, he looked over his shoulder to see that King Bastard himself had just walked in. Biting back a smirk, he continued to watch the bubbles as they burst at the surface of the liquid.

"Is that all you wanted to speak to me about, Crouger? Your attempts at cooking?" King Bastard demanded.

"What's the matter, you haven't seen anyone multitask before?" he shot back, smirking slightly so he wouldn't give himself away.

"I don't particularly care about your cooking skills, Crouger," King Bastard sneered. "Just say what you wanted."

"Do you know how I feel about my family?" he asked, both because he was curious about what the other guy would say, and because he needed just a little more time for the water to boil properly.

"I hardly see how that has any bearing on our current situation, Crouger."

"No." He chuckled softly as the water began to boil properly. "I guess it _wouldn't _mean much to someone like you."

Firmly gripping the pot handle with both hands, he whipped it at Agito, liberally covering the older guy in scalding water. Slamming his full weight into his opponent, Ryan pinned him against the stove, grabbed one of his flailing arms, and pinned it to the still-hot burner with his right elbow. Leaning his head against his right hand, Ryan grinned slightly.

See how King Bastard liked it.

"I certainly hope I've got your attention," he called cheerfully. Pain seemed to motivate most people, so he figured he had a very good chance of making at least some kind of impression. "Now, we're going to have a _nice_ little chat," he grinned, digging his left thumbnail into the bastard's right cheek. "More specifically, you're going to listen while I tell you _just_ what I'm going to do to you if you ever threaten my family again."

The almighty King of Bastards gritted his teeth, obviously struggling not to make too much noise. It was really kind of funny.

"Now, you might be thinking that this is the worst I can think up." His grin widened. "I'm here to tell you that you're not even _close_ to being right about that. I'm also going to tell you that you don't _want _to know the worst I can think up. It's not pleasant." Chuckling deep in his throat, he dug the tip of his pointer finger under the bastard's eyelid. "Now, I hope this has been an enlightening discussion, but I think we should leave off before things start charring, eh?"

Standing back up, he took the pot to the sink so he could toss out the rest of the water and give the thing a good scrubbing. Then he turned and slammed the bottom of the pot into King Bastard's face as the guy tried to jump him from behind.

"Nice try, but you might want to move a little more quietly next time," he chuckled as King Bastard growled and tried to staunch the blood flowing from his nose.

As the king of bastards lunged at him, Ryan backed up and quickly opened the drawer closest to his left hand. He'd done some exploring in the kitchen beforehand—he'd wanted to have everything just right for when he had his little "friendly chat"—and right now what he needed was a knife.

And, lucky him, he just happened to be digging around in the knife drawer.

Swatting King Bastard with the pot when he got a little too close for comfort, Ryan found himself impressed by the bastard's stamina. Not many guys would have been able to shove aside being smacked in the head with a pot _and_ having their hand smashed against a heated stove burner, both in quick succession. King Bastard was pretty damn tough. He liked that—it would make things interesting.


	84. Council Matters

Imakarum could not help worrying for Kenji's sake: with the information that Lord Fried'rich had provided to the Council, it was obvious that Kenji was very sick, or had been, at the very least. Zoalords were not _meant_ to fall prey to the myriad illnesses that awaited careless and unwary humans—Zoalords were the most powerful beings in existence. They were not supposed to fall to the same weaknesses and frailties that those pitiful creatures were subject to.

Still, none of that changed the fact that Kenji _had_ in fact been sick. Lord Fried'rich had given him permission to look in on his son, since he was not in the best position to be objective about the situation that had brought about the gathering of Chronos' Council of Twelve. He still could not believe that _Kenji_, of all people, was being accused of treason. Kenji was not a person who would be capable of such things: deception was simply against his nature.

Making his way to the private laboratory of Dr. Alfred Hekkaring, a man he had only heard rumors about up to this point, Imakarum considered what he would do once he arrived. Take Kenji to their room, of course – Kenji deserved to be comfortable after what he had been through – but there was still the matter of Hekkaring. The things he had heard about the man did not paint him in a particularly sympathetic light. He seemed to be serving Chronos out of a sense of personal curiosity rather than loyalty to Lord Alkanphel's cause, and that would not do. He would perhaps have to interview the man once he had gotten Kenji settled.

Continuing on his way to the laboratory, following the psychic trail of his sleeping son, Imakarum smiled. Soon they would be reunited and able to rest. Soon Kenji's name would be cleared and things could go back to the way they had always been.

__

-Masaki, I will keep you informed of what transpires while my Council is in session.-

-Thank you, Lord Alkanphel.-

-Know that I will not allow anything to harm the youngest of my children,- Lord Alkanphel said.

__

-I am very grateful for that, my Lord. Still… do you think that would be wise?- Even as much as he hated the idea of Kenji being responsible for… the actions he had been accused of, if he was indeed capable of such a thing, it would not be in the best interests of Chronos to… keep him.

__

-I will not_ see any of my children harmed, Masaki,- _Lord Alkanphel said firmly. _-Even if Kenji is responsible, there are ways of ensuring that he won't act up in the future.-_

-I will await further news, then, my Lord.-

-I'm pleased to hear that, Masaki.-

He would never suggest such a thing to his Lord, but if Kenji _was_ responsible for what had happened to Lord Luggnagg – as much as he hated to even _consider_ the idea – Imakarum knew he would have to… deal with the boy. He could not allow anything, even one of his own flesh and blood, to threaten Lord Alkanphel or his plans for the world.

But Kenji couldn't possibly be comfortable in one of those hospital-style beds the scientists were known for using. He himself had spent enough time in those beds when Lord Alkanphel and Lord Hamilcal had been inducting him into the ranks of Chronos' Zoalords to know how uncomfortable they were. When he finally came upon his son sleeping in one of those paltry hospital beds, Imakarum gently picked him up and carried him back to their room. His son would be much happier curled up in their warm, luxurious bed than in this thing. Holding the boy close, Imakarum kissed his forehead.

Kenji _might_ have been the one who had attacked Lord Luggnagg – as much as he hated to consider the possibility of such a thing – but for the moment, he would enjoy the company of his son.

XxXxX

The penalty for the murder of another Zoalord would have been execution for any lesser Zoaform, but this was a completely unprecedented situation. Not only was the murderer a Zoalord himself, he was also clearly favored by Supreme Overlord Alkanphel—he was the son of Imakarum Mirabilis, himself clearly the favored child of the Supreme Overlord.

It was an odd situation, which was precisely why all of the Lords of Chronos – with the obvious exception of Imakarum Mirabilis – had gathered in the Celestial Hall to decide the fate of Chronos' youngest Zoalord.

"I say the boy should be executed immediately," Kaburaal Khan snapped, clearly struggling to control himself.

Alkanphel merely looked at him, and he fell silent. "I will _not_ have one of my children harmed impetuously." His slitted golden gaze snapped to Jearvill, raking him with annoyance that bordered on accusation. "Kenji must have had reasons for acting as he did. Make no mistake, Jearvill, I _will _find them out."

"We will, of course, abide by your wishes, Lord Alkanphel," Dr. Balkus said, effectively ending the discussion.

All that remained now was to get the full story.

XxXxX

Kenji was sleeping. Imakarum personally doubted that his son would ever be allowed to wake up. There could be only one punishment for the murder of a Zoalord, the murder of one of Lord Alkanphel's grand Council. Imakarum was determined to at least carry out the sentence himself. He even knew exactly how he was going to do it: his connection to Kenji's mind and brain would give him full control over his son's physical functions.

It would be… not simple; none of this could ever possibly be _simple_, but rather uncomplicated to… slow the boy's heartbeat to the point where he would… no longer be alive. It was Imakarum's duty as a father, he knew, to ensure that his son's passing would be as painless as possible. He would carry the memory of his son, even when Kenji joined Miaka in whatever peaceful afterlife awaited the two of them.

Leaning against the crown of Kenji's skull, Imakarum tried in vain to stifle the tears running down his cheeks. While it was true that his son had betrayed Chronos – attacking and killing one of Lord Alkanphel's loyal Zoalords – Kenji was still his little boy. In so many ways, however, that made the betrayal all the worse, and, more than anything, that made it his duty to pass sentence on him. He… he would have to kill his son.

When he sensed Lord Alkanphel coming, and more than that when he realized that Chronos' Supreme Overlord was not alone, Imakarum wiped the tears from his eyes, put Kenji into a trance-like sleep so that he would not be able to attack either of the Zoalords, and stood at attention to greet his Overlord and his fellow Lord.

"Relax, Masaki," Lord Alkanphel said, as he led Lord Hamilcal into Imakarum's room. "We are not here to harm your son. Hamilcal and I merely want to find out just why Kenji acted as he did."

"Of course, Lord Alkanphel," he said, bowing.

It would not likely be long until he was required to carry out sentence on the boy, Imakarum knew, but he was grateful to Lord Alkanphel for his consideration.


	85. Sons and Fathers

He knew what Masaki intended to do. He always knew—Masaki was closer to him than any other Zoalord, even Kenji or Hamilcal, whom he cared deeply for, could ever be. They were almost of one mind, one of Hamilcal's precautions to keep the persona of Murakami, rebel that he was, from ever resurfacing. It was a worthy precaution: Murakami would be all the more dangerous considering the kind of power that he had provided to Masaki when he had remade him into a loyal Zoalord.

Still, the fact that he would have Kenji by his side would be more than likely to deter Murakami from attacking in the unlikely event that his mind were to resurface. Now, however, was not the time to think about such things. He needed to find out what kind of circumstances had prompted Kenji's seemingly treasonous actions. He knew from his examinations of the boy's mind that Kenji was both gentle and loyal. Now all that remained was to find out just what had passed through the mind of his youngest son when he had made his attack on Luggnagg.

Seeing through Kenji's eyes as he arrived at the Pillars of Heaven, Alkanphel noticed that he seemed rather taken with Luggnagg. Certainly there were none of the feelings that would have led someone like Kenji to commit acts of treason and murder, so clearly there had to be another force at work that would have had the power to coerce a Zoalord to act against his own will.

Delving farther into the child's memories, Alkanphel continued to observe the rapport building between Kenji and Luggnagg. It seemed simple enough, but there was something in Luggnagg's eyes when he looked at the boy—something Alkanphel did not like. It was subtle, and not something that Kenji would have been equipped to notice. Child that he was, he had still not learned mistrust.

It was something that Alkanphel could appreciate: it reminded him of a time when he had still been under the care of the Advents. Back then, he himself had not known of the darker emotions that his children could be prey to. He had not known despair, longing, hatred, bitterness, loneliness, or fear. He had only known contentment, and an overarching purpose in his service to the Advents. He wanted, more than anything, to share this feeling – this divine purpose – with his children and all of their servants, but most of all he wanted Kenji to have the perfect happiness that he had been denied when the Advents had left.

Settling himself more deeply into Kenji's mind, he began to notice an odd sort of change in the boy's memories. The edges of the child's vision were beginning to become blurred, his recollections more disordered and incoherent. Every time Luggnagg returned to him, he was carrying a strange vial of some colorless fluid.

Kenji had drunk them obediently, but he could sense in the boy's mind that he only drank them out of a sense of obligation, and to relieve the increasing amounts of pain and dizziness that he was beginning to succumb to. It was a strange and unnerving situation, but the more he observed, the more Alkanphel became certain that Luggnagg had not been acting in the best interests of his youngest son.

It was infuriating, to know that yet another of his own had betrayed him, and all the worse for the fact that the traitor had tried to use his beloved youngest son as a sacrificial lamb just to escape his own punishment. He could not forgive such actions as Luggnagg had taken. Kenji would be well rewarded for his actions in ridding Chronos' Council of such a loathsome traitor.

In fact, he knew just the gift that he would give to his youngest child…

Searching through the rest of the young Zoalord's recollections produced something of a surprise—nothing having to do with how he'd been manipulated by Luggnagg, but something else… something far more intimate, and perhaps more dangerous for all that…

Looking deeper, he found settled deep within the child's subconscious mind a different, far more rudimentary consciousness present. It was obviously this… entity that had acted in Kenji's stead when he had been too deeply under the effects of whatever Luggnagg had been dosing him with. The entity – that alter-consciousness that had most likely been created by Hamilcal – had precious few thoughts and feelings that were not a product of Hamilcal's tampering.

This one was merely a shadow, a sketch of all the things that Kenji was and could become. He would have to speak to Hamilcal about his proclivities, but for now Kenji needed to be attended to. Masaki would be livid, but his Zoalord of Gravity would learn to accept that some things needed to be done for the cause. He would see to that.

Pulling himself free from Kenji's mind, he turned first to his Zoalord of Gravity.

"Masaki, there is nothing for you to concern yourself with. Kenji acted fully in the interests of Chronos and the Council. It was Luggnagg's own treachery that ended his life." _-Hamilcal, I would speak with you about what you have been doing in my absence.-_

-Of course, Lord Alkanphel.-

"You mean that Kenji- he's really not going to-"

"Your son will be fine, Masaki," he said, smiling and projecting reassurance to his Twelfth Zoalord. "He has done a great service for Chronos this day, and he will be well rewarded."

"I'm glad, Lord Alkanphel," Masaki said, bowing deeply.

"If you will excuse us, Hamilcal and I have things to discus."

"Of course, my Lord," Masaki said, nodding and quickly turning back to his bed to see to his son.

His diligence in looking after the boy was admirable, and one of the many reasons that the man once named Masaki Murakami had made such a fine Zoalord. Masaki was strong, loyal, loving, and devoted to both him and Kenji in equal measures. As he and Hamilcal left the room, Alkanphel wondered for a moment what his Second Zoalord's motivations in creating that alter-persona had been.

Surely he could not have seen _Kenji_ as any kind of a threat to even the lowest ranking Zoalords, or anyone in Chronos, for that matter. Kenji possessed the limited powers of a Proto-Zoalord, and while he also possessed the telepathic abilities of a full Zoalord, his own nature would preclude him from using them in any destructive ways. Still, it was always best to refrain from making assumptions where Hamilcal was concerned.

His Second Zoalord would always act in the best interests of both Chronos and Alkanphel himself, but his methods would not always be comprehensible to others. Alkanphel was one of the few who fully understood Hamilcal's motivations; he was also the only one to fully understand the true purpose of humanity as a whole. Even Masaki and Kenji did not fully grasp their own significance. They would, in due time and provided with the appropriate guidance, but for now he needed to ascertain what Hamilcal's motivations had been and what his plans for the shade had been.

XxXxX

As pleased as he was to know that Kenji was not guilty of any kind of treason and hence would not be subject to any reprisals, he couldn't help but wonder just what _was_ going to be done with his son. And what would be done about the now-vacant post of Ninth Zoalord of Chronos? Lord Alkanphel had seemed pensive about something—most likely about the matter of the Council—but he was curious to know just what his Lord had planned. He could not offer his full support to Lord Alkanphel if he did not know what his Lord had planned, after all.

Tucking Kenji into their bed so that he would be able to sleep more comfortably, Imakarum gently kissed him on the forehead and quietly turned to leave. Kenji would be fine, and they would be able to spend the rest of the day together.


	86. Baby Mine

When Balkus had dispatched him to find the littlest of Chronos' Zoalords, Hekkaring had been rather incensed: the old man had plenty of junior assistants who were practically falling all over themselves in their rush to kiss his feet. He could have just as easily sent one of them to retrieve the boy from Imakarum's room. One of them might have even survived the attempt to get the new Twelfth Zoalord to let his precious son out of his sight for half a day. But no, that old man had chosen _him_ to go into the lion's den and procure the little cub.

There were times Hekkaring was certain that Hamilcal Balkus would have liked nothing more than to get rid of him—in a particularly painful way, if this assignment was anything to go by. Still, there were projects he had full control of, and he was respected by a fair amount of the junior scientists. That old codger would have to _work_ to get rid of him.

Still, for the moment he would have to think of a good explanation to convince Imakarum Mirabilis – an unstable and highly dangerous madman if he had ever seen one – to give up one of the only things that kept him at least relatively stable. It was far from an enviable assignment. Meeting with Imakarum Mirabilis had been the last thing a great many of his underlings had ever been reported doing.

Taking what very well may have ended up being his last breath, Hekkaring rang the door-chime and waited for the Twelfth Zoalord to appear and demand to know just what he intended to do. He could not possibly miss the fact that Hekkaring was in possession of a wheeled medical bed, or the fact that there were two Hyper Zoanoids with him. In fact, it was very likely that he would find out what the purpose of this visit was by scanning their minds, and that made it all the more likely that he would refuse to cooperate in the first place.

Ringing the chime once more, Hekkaring paused to allow Imakarum to come to his senses and allow them inside before he was forced to use drastic measures to retrieve the boy. Measures that were like as not going to end up getting him killed.

Growing impatient with waiting for nothing, Hekkaring overrode the lock and waited for it to open. Then he realized why Imakarum Mirabilis had not answered his summons: the man was not even in the room to hear it. Still, the child was tucked neatly into the elder Zoalord's bed, making this assignment so much the easier to complete.

Ordering the Hyper Zoanoids to retrieve the little Zoalord, Hekkaring watched as they gently moved him from the bed he'd originally been sleeping in onto the medical bed and wheeled the boy out into the corridor. Signaling for them to follow him, Hekkaring made for his private laboratory.

Only it, and that of Dr. Balkus himself, possessed the seniority to command a laboratory of their very own, and for something of this nature Hekkaring was glad to have it. Even though most of the work had already been done, there were some minor changes that would need to be made for the boy to become a full Zoalord. Still, the genetic reconstruction required to transform him would not be nearly as extensive as that which would be required to enable him to use Krumeggnik's Zoacrystal to its utmost potential. Hekkaring honestly wondered if anyone would bother.

XxXxX

__

)Kid- Ryan, what you were doing back there, were you actually… getting off on that?(

)Mom says my temper only has two settings: cold or violently sadistic,( he sent back, not really wanting to answer the question and hoping his "inner Zoanoid" would get the message.

__

)You want to talk?(

)Honestly? No.(

)Didn't think so,( Elegen seemed to sigh. _)You seem to handle it pretty well, though. You haven't gone off on any of the others, anyway.(_

)That's because none of the others are stupid enough to rile me up like that.(

)True, but maybe you have better self-control than you give yourself credit for, Ryan.(

)Yeah,( he sent, with all the sarcasm he could put into a single word. _)I'm demonstrating a whole hell of a lot of self-control when I scald one of my fellow Guyvers, pin his hand to a hot stove burner, and threaten him with horrible but unspecified punishments.(_

)To be fair, Ryan, he was_ making threats against your family,( _Elegen sent. _)You've always been something of a protector. That's the impression I've gotten from my end, anyway.(_

He sighed, slumping back onto the couch and closing his eyes. It would have probably been less of a hassle to just head to his room and lie down on his bed, but for the moment he really didn't feel like moving. If Agito came in and tried to bug him – he didn't think it was too likely, but anything was possible – he might have second thoughts about that, but for now he was content to just lie on the couch and look at the far wall. He really hated losing control like that; it freaked other people out, and, hell, it tended to freak _him_ out, too.

XxXxX

When Imakarum returned to his room, the first thing he saw was the empty bed. Rage bloomed in his chest, and he turned on his heel and hurried out of the room. There were only two people who were capable of doing this to his son, and he knew just where either would have gone in that case. Lord Hamilcal's personal laboratory was the only one specialized enough to handle the processing of Zoalords.

Kenji would be there. No matter if it was that rat Alfred Hekkaring who had taken him or Lord Hamilcal himself, his son would be in a processing-tank. He'd spoken with Lord Alkanphel, and while he still did not quite know quite what his Lord was so concerned about, he knew it involved Kenji in some way.

He'd also come to realize that Lord Alkanphel had some kind of plans for Kenji. He hadn't asked anything more about them other than if they were in place, knowing that his Lord would tell him when the time came for him to know.

Once he reached the laboratory, it didn't take him very long to find what he was looking for. Kenji was in one of the processing-tanks in the center of the laboratory. Standing before the nude, unconscious, all but helpless form of his son was that withered, despicable old man Alfred Hekkaring.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?!" he demanded, hurrying over to his son's side. Grabbing the shriveled old scientist by the collar, Imakarum hoisted him up and shook him like a dusty rag doll.

"If you would stop for a few moments and listen to reason, I could explain things to you," the insufferable man said arrogantly.

Grudgingly, still concerned for his son's safety but wanting to know just what Hekkaring thought he was doing, Imakarum set the human back on his feet. "Well then, human, speak quickly. What are you doing with my son?"

"I was given strict instructions by Dr. Balkus to have this boy developed into a full Zoalord." The man looked annoyed for a moment. "To be more precise, Dr. Balkus began the redevelopment of this boy, and then he left _me_ here to tend to him. Claimed he had _other business_ to attend to."

Hekkaring seemed to be talking more for his own benefit than that of anyone else, and Imakarum felt a slight flame of irritation. When he saw Kenji begin to involuntarily transform into his battleform, Imakarum turned immediately to look at what Hekkaring was doing. As he had suspected, the old scientist had indeed been the one to force his son to transform. Just as he was going to demand the reason for Hekkaring's actions, Lord Hamilcal strode into the laboratory.

"Is your work on the boy finished, Hekkaring?" Lord Hamilcal asked, giving a slight nod to acknowledge Imakarum himself.

"Yes," Hekkaring snapped. "All of the primary work on the boy's body has been completed. All you need to do is finalize it."

Without even a gesture of respect to his betters – something that infuriated Imakarum, but for some reason had no comparable effect on Lord Hamilcal – Hekkaring left the laboratory.

"What's going to happen to him now, Lord Hamilcal?"

"You'll find out soon enough, Imakarum," Lord Hamilcal said calmly, seeming to have already dismissed Imakarum from his thoughts.

Even as he was about to question Lord Hamilcal about his oblique dismissal, Lord Alkanphel strode into the room.

"Hamilcal, is it done?" Chronos' Supreme Overlord asked, his eyes drifting over Imakarum to rest on Kenji's slumbering form.

"Yes," Lord Hamilcal stated. "We only need to extract the dummy-crystal, insert the new one, and complete the reprocessing."

"Good," Lord Alkanphel said, smiling benevolently at Kenji as he laid his hand on the processing-tank that held him.

The tank was soon drained, and Kenji was laid out on one of the nearby operating tables. All the while Imakarum was left to wonder just what his Lord intended to do with his son.

__

-Relax, Masaki,- Lord Alkanphel said. _-For the services he has done for Chronos this day, Kenji is to become a member of my Council.-_

Imakarum was shocked into speechlessness by that pronouncement, and he watched dumbly as Lord Alkanphel gently caressed the side of Kenji's face. It was a momentous occasion, but it was like nothing he had ever expected.


	87. Hearts on Barbed Wire

Alkanphel, keeping Kenji's mind in a state of deep sleep so that he would not feel any pain during the procedure, watched as Hamilcal extracted the boy's old Zoacrystal. The crystal itself had been little more than a stabilized Proto-Zoacrystal, thus only granting his youngest son access to half the power of a true Zoalord. Hamilcal was almost gentle as he performed the extraction, though that could have been simply because Masaki had yet to leave the room.

Masaki's grip on Kenji's hand would have been tight enough to shatter the boy's bones if he had still been human, and for that, Alkanphel was thankful that Kenji was a Zoalord. He would not want Masaki to have any undue regrets, and causing such damage to Kenji when he was merely worried about his son's health would have indeed caused Masaki to feel guilty.

__

-Calm down, Masaki. Kenji is not being harmed; in fact he is quite comfortable,- Alkanphel informed his Twelfth Zoalord.

__

-I know that, Lord Alkanphel, and I thank you for looking after him. But I still don't think this is a wise idea. Being one of the Twelve is such a big job, and Kenji's so small. I just wonder if he can handle it.-

-Masaki, Kenji has not been small for a very long while,- Alkanphel admonished, slightly irritated with his Twelfth Zoalord for being so determined to cling to an illusion. _-It was Kenji's strength of body and will that allowed him to become a Zoalord. It was Kenji's dedication to Chronos and to you that allowed him to see and then act on Luggnagg's treachery. Your son has proven himself to be fully worthy of the honor of becoming my Ninth Zoalord. If anything, Masaki, you should be proud of Kenji.-_

-I am that, Lord Alkanphel,- Masaki said, trying and failing to be reassuring. _-But still, I can't help but wonder if he'll be able to handle all of this. It's all so… sudden.-_

Alkanphel let out a breath, wondering again if Masaki was truly concerned with _Kenji's_ mental health. Masaki seemed determined to ignore the fact that his son was not the nearly helpless human boy that he had been. Kenji was a Zoalord, and hence very powerful in his own right, and yet Masaki still insisted on treating his son as though the boy would break if exposed to even the slightest pressure.

While it _was _true that Kenji had been extremely weak when compared to any of the other Zoalords, being basically a Proto-Zoalord that had been altered to have the lifespan of a true Zoalord, the boy had still been able to overpower and kill Luggnagg. Though a great deal of Kenji's success in that regard had in fact been due to the element of surprise, but Alkanphel was still grateful to him for having saved the life of Fried'rich, one of his oldest and most loyal Zoalords.

As Hamilcal deftly placed Luggnagg's reshaped Zoacrystal in the vacant slot set into Kenji's forehead, Alkanphel saw Masaki give Kenji's hand a tight squeeze. Hamilcal gave a mental signal to Alkanphel when it was at last time for Kenji's reprocessing.

__

-Masaki, let go. It's time now.-

When Masaki continued to hold Kenji's hand, keeping Hamilcal from lifting the young Zoalord off of the medical table, Alkanphel reached over and gently touched Masaki on the wrist. Masaki loosened his convulsive grip on Kenji's hand, and before Hamilcal could move forward to remove the newest and youngest of the Chronos Overlords from the dissection table, Masaki had done it himself.

Watching as Masaki, cradling his still-transformed son in his arms, walked over and gently deposited Kenji inside the processing-tank and then held him upright as Hamilcal attached the monitoring devices to his body, Alkanphel was again struck with the depth of Masaki's regard for his son. As the processing-tank slowly closed, sealing Kenji inside, Alkanphel stepped forward and laid his hand on Masaki's shoulder.

__

-You want to stay with him, don't you.-

Alkanphel's words were less a question and more an outright statement, given how well he knew Masaki and understood his feelings for Kenji.

__

-Yes, Lord Alkanphel, that is what I want.-

-Then stay, Masaki. I will summon you if there are any matters of importance that require your personal attention.-

-Thank you, Lord Alkanphel.-

Alkanphel nodded, turning away and walking out of the room.

XxXxX

Imakarum, watching in silence as Kenji's body was again altered and enhanced, wondered just how his son would be able to cope with being a member of the Council of Twelve. Being part of the Council and ruling a ninth of the planet weren't such large issues to adult minds like his or Lord Alkanphel's, but the fact remained that Kenji wasn't an adult. He might look like one, but Imakarum was very well aware that Kenji was still a child in all but body.

For him to become one of the Twelve Overlords had not been something Imakarum was at all prepared for. While Imakarum was indeed glad that Kenji had not and would not be executed for his betrayal, he was not quite sure what to think about the fact that his son had become a part of Chronos' elite.

Lord Alkanphel was also about to re-enter his state of hibernation, so Kenji would not be able to rely on his guidance to help him adjust— at least not until Lord Alkanphel had awakened again. And as much as Imakarum hated to even have to consider such a thing, there was the matter of Kenji's safety among the other Overlords. If Kenji appeared weak in any way, some of the others were more than likely to attack him.

None of those truly loyal to Lord Alkanphel were likely to attempt that, but the fact remained that they too had considered Kenji worthless to Chronos as a whole. Only his innocent naïveté and Imakarum's protection had allowed him to retain the happy illusion that he was welcomed within Chronos. Even the best among the Zoalords, save for Lord Alkanphel and Imakarum himself, considered Kenji—considered _Ingriam—_to be weak and useless.

The fact that Kenji was almost always seen with him, seeming to have no set tasks aside from those Lord Alkanphel or Imakarum himself chose to give him and those he had chosen to take on himself, must have been one of the reasons that the other Overlords thought Kenji was useless. And, Imakarum had to admit it if only to himself, their opinions were not at all invalid. Kenji _was_ essentially useless to Chronos. _Kenji_ was, at least, while Ingriam was now the Zoalord of Wind.

Lord Hamilcal had not told him about the alternate personality that he had created within Kenji's mind. Imakarum had had to find out about that from Lord Alkanphel, which in retrospect was a good idea given the fact that he was not certain that he would have been able to control himself after finding out how badly Lord Hamilcal had tampered with Kenji's mind.

Lord Alkanphel had also been displeased, not only with the tampering itself but because Lord Hamilcal had not told him about the alter persona. In his own defense, Lord Hamilcal had said that what Lord Alkanphel knew, Imakarum himself was also privileged to, as well. Imakarum could see the logic in that, but it still did not stop him from wishing that he could wrap his hands around Lord Hamilcal's neck and squeeze until he heard the sound of vertebrae being crushed and torn out of alignment.

__

No one harmed his son.

Still, to survive within Chronos, Kenji – _Ingriam_ – would need to be without ties or weaknesses. That was not going to be possible if Imakarum was to stay as close to Kenji—_Ingriam_—as he would have preferred. This would be the last day that he would be able to stay close to his son, whatever name that he would be called by, so Imakarum was determined that their last day together would be a memorable one.


	88. What Child is This

Ingriam, slowly coming back to full awareness after being in that strange dreamless state again, wondered just what had happened to him. Then, when he saw his dad leaning over him and smiling, Ingriam decided that he could wait a little bit to find out.

"Hey, Dad," Ingriam said, smiling up at his dad as he felt his fingers running through his hair.

"Hello, Kenji-chan."

Ingriam closed his eyes for a minute, just wanting to feel his dad's hand as it ran through his hair and caressed his cheek.

"What brings you all the way here, Dad?" Ingriam asked, seeing the almost pensive look on his dad's face for just a second before it was gone. "Is something wrong?"

"No Kenji-chan, it's all right."

Somehow, Ingriam got the feeling that his dad wasn't telling him the whole truth right then, but that was stupid. His dad had always told him the truth, even when it was something that neither of them really wanted to think about. It was one of the things that made them so close, so there was no reason that Ingriam should even think for a minute that his dad was lying now.

"I guess we shouldn't be taking up any more of Hamilcal's time," Ingriam said, pushing himself up and off of the medical table.

"No, we really shouldn't," Dad said as he helped Ingriam to stand up again.

"Bye, Hamilcal!" Ingriam called over his shoulder as they left the lab.

__

-There's something we need to do, Kenji-chan, and then we'll have the rest of the day to ourselves.-

-What is it that we have to do, Dad?-

-We have to take Lord Alkanphel back to Silha. You do remember when I told you about Silha, don't you, Kenji-chan?-

-Yeah, I remember it. Why are we going to go there, though? Doesn't Alkanphel want to stay here with us?-

-I'm sure that Lord Alkanphel would want to stay with us if he could, Kenji-chan. Do you remember what I told you about him?-

-Well… I remember that you said, about him having to go back to Silha and sleep. But does he really have to go now? Couldn't he stay for at least a few more days?-

-I'm sorry, Kenji-chan. I think that Lord Alkanphel would stay with us if he could, but he has to go back to Silha and sleep now. I don't think I told you about how sick Lord Alkanphel is, did I, Kenji-chan?-

-Alkanphel's sick? Is that why he has to go to sleep now, dad?-

-Yes, Kenji-chan.- Dad's telepathic "voice" was firm, and there seemed to be something else about it… but Ingriam decided that he was just thinking too much. _-That is why Lord Alkanphel needs to go back to Silha and rest now. And I need you to promise me something, Kenji-chan.-_

-What do you need me to promise you, Dad?-

-I need you to promise that you will never speak about anything that I have just told you—not even to the other Zoalords, do you understand? No one can know about what I have just told you.-

-I promise, Dad. I'll keep Alkanphel's secrets.-

Ingriam felt his dad's approval; it warmed the entirety of his mind. Ingriam was always happier when he could do something to make his dad happy. Walking down the halls beside him, Ingriam wondered for a minute just why Alkanphel didn't want anyone to know that he was sick. Maybe he was like Dad, not wanting anyone to worry about him. Ingriam huffed—he would never understand grown-ups.

XxXxX

Alkanphel, as he waited for Masaki to return, felt another wave of lethargy pass through him. He knew he would not be able to stave off his body's need for hibernation for much longer. When Masaki at last appeared, oddly enough with Kenji trailing just behind him, Alkanphel finally allowed his façade of invincibility and strength to slip somewhat. Masaki, and by extension Kenji, were some of the most trustworthy of his children.

Truthfully, the only one that Alkanphel trusted more than Masaki was Hamilcal, and since Kenji was so very loyal to Masaki, Alkanphel knew that he could trust the child. Sensing the uneasiness that Masaki was unintentionally projecting, centered on Kenji for a reason Alkanphel did not know, he skimmed over the surface of his Twelfth Zoalord's mind. Realizing the plan that Masaki had in mind, Alkanphel felt a surge of disappointment. He would have thought that Masaki knew Kenji better than to leave the boy to find his own way within Chronos' ranks.

__

-Masaki, you are making a bad decision.-

-What do you mean, my Lord? You called for me.-

-I was not referring to our current situation, Masaki,- Alkanphel said, looking over Masaki's shoulder to where Kenji was standing.

The boy seemed only somewhat confused, but more than that Kenji seemed completely trusting. Alkanphel hated to think of what effect Masaki's actions would have on their relationship. Indeed, Alkanphel knew more than most how damaging it was to be betrayed and abandoned by one that was trusted so much.

__

-I think that you are perfectly aware of what I am talking about, Masaki,- Alkanphel snapped, becoming slightly annoyed with his Twelfth Zoalord for the second time that day. _-As well, Masaki, I would suggest that you forget your plan to abandon Kenji and instead mentor him. He will need your help even more now that he has become one of my Twelve Zoalords.-_

-I… I apologize Lord Alkanphel. I didn't think of that.-

Alkanphel sighed softly. _-Leave it for now, Masaki. Just remember what I have said to you.-_

Turning to look at Kenji, who was by now obviously confused, Alkanphel addressed the newest and youngest of his Twelve Overlords.

"I would like to thank you, Kenji, for coming as well," Alkanphel said, gently stroking the young Zoalord's right cheek. "It means a great deal to me." _-You are loyal, little one, just like your father. Trust in him and all will be well.-_

-I always do.-

Alkanphel could sense the truthfulness of Kenji's statement, and for a moment he envied Kenji the openness of his nature. Alkanphel only hoped that Masaki would not do anything to endanger such a bond, as it would be very difficult to rebuild trust of that kind once it had been shattered. Alkanphel knew such things better than most.

Stepping forward, Alkanphel felt Masaki wrap his arm around his waist, and then he felt Kenji doing the same from his other side. Putting his own arms around the shoulders of his loyal children, Alkanphel allowed himself to relax into their hold. Telepathically imparting the information on Silha's location to both Masaki and Kenji, Alkanphel closed his eyes for a moment. At the surge of energy, he opened them once again.

He recognized the temple that had been built for him by his Zoanoids so long ago—long before Kenji and Masaki had been taken into his service. Before, in fact, even Hamilcal had found him on this selfsame island. Even the smell of the air, not as fresh as the jungle outside but still much better in his opinion than the recycled air inside any of the Chronos buildings, was familiar and comforting to him. Alkanphel could hear one of his children sniffing the air, and he turned toward the sound.

It was Kenji, as Alkanphel had been starting to suspect. The young Zoalord looked positively enraptured by what he was seeing.

__

-You know that you are welcome to come here any time you wish to, little one, so long as it does not interfere with your new duties and responsibilities.-

-What new duties and responsibilities?-

-Masaki hasn't told you?-

-No, Dad didn't say anything about that. Why? Was he supposed to?-

Alkanphel did not know whether to berate Masaki or to question him, and in the end he settled on the latter. He had scant time before he would be forced to enter hibernation, but he wanted to make certain that Kenji would be prepared for what he would face as the newest of the Chronos Overlords. The boy was so much like himself, as he had been before his creators had made the foolish decision to perform the experiment with the Guyver unit, that Alkanphel often found himself with no greater desire than to protect the young Zoalord, even from inadvertent harm by the one who loved him above all others.

"I would have though that you would have already told Kenji about his new status," Alkanphel said, careful to keep even the slightest hint of accusation out of his voice. "You _are_ the one that he trusts implicitly, after all."

Masaki nodded, still radiating unease. "Kenji, I'm sorry that I didn't tell you earlier, but you've become one of the Twelve."

For a moment Alkanphel saw Kenji's expression change to one of honest confusion, before the young Zoalord realized what his father had been talking about.

"Really? But why? I thought you said that all of the Twelve had already been chosen, Dad. What happened?"

"In a nutshell, Kenji-chan, you happened," Masaki said, seeming to grow more comfortable with the subject as he spoke. "Do you remember when you woke up with Luggnagg De Krumeggnik's Zoacrystal in your hand?"

"I remember that, Dad," Kenji said, nodding. "But what does that have to do with anything?"

"Everything," Masaki said calmly, stepping forward and gently placing his fingertips on Kenji's forehead. Just over the boy's new Zoacrystal.

Alkanphel could sense the moment when Kenji's Zoacrystal went from almost dormant to fully active, watching as the young Zoalord's body stiffened for a moment and then relaxed as his eyes fluttered and slowly closed. Masaki put his other hand on the back of Kenji's neck to steady and help support him as his own Zoacrystal resonated with his son's. The wind began to swirl more noticeably around Kenji as the young Zoalord began to acclimate to his new powers.

Light, first from the Zoacrystals of his Twelfth and Ninth Lords and then from their bodies as the two of them transformed, filled the temple and reflected off the walls. Alkanphel watched as the Zoalord form that Hamilcal had designed for Masaki emerged for only the second time outside of a processing-tank. It was almost the same situation for Kenji, since his Ninth Zoalord had never been called on to transform until this moment.

As his Zoalord form was based to a very great degree on Masaki's Proto-Zoalord form, the top of Kenji's head only reached the midpoint of Masaki's chest now that the boy had transformed. Of course, this did not take into account the crests extending from his ears or head, since Alkanphel was measuring from the top of Kenji's head rather than from one of his crests.

Alkanphel found himself almost envious of the closeness that Masaki and Kenji shared—nothing like that had ever been allowed to form between himself and the Advents. True, he had at one time been as blindly trusting as Kenji was, but the Advents had not proven themselves to be as worthy of his trust as Masaki and Kenji. It was for just such a reason that Alkanphel wanted to preserve the relationship that they had. Looking at Masaki, Alkanphel found that he had finished imprinting Kenji and was now simply embracing his son. Kenji's left arm was wrapped around Masaki's waist, and Masaki was gently caressing his son's back.

"There Kenji, you're ready now."

"Thanks, Dad. I feel a lot better now."

Once Masaki had apparently satisfied himself with Kenji's progress, they both transformed back into their human forms. Just as the light from their transformations cleared, Alkanphel felt a wave of weakness pass through him. He stumbled, but Masaki and Kenji were at his side in an instant, their arms wrapped around him and their bodies supporting his own failing form.

"I apologize for neglecting you, my Lord Alkanphel."

"I understand, Masaki," Alkanphel said as he let Kenji and Masaki lead him to the stone altar where he would sleep. "I would not have wanted Kenji to be unprepared for his new tasks." _-Stay with him, Masaki. Kenji will need your help more than ever now. Do not abandon him.-_

-My Lord Alkanphel, I…-

Masaki said nothing more after that, even going so far as to attempt to block Alkanphel from his mind. Since it would not be long until he was forced to enter hibernation, Alkanphel knew that he could not afford to get into an argument with Masaki. He could only hope that Masaki would take his advice. Kenji was still a fragile creature, despite all of the raw physical power that his Ninth Zoalord possessed.

As Masaki lifted his legs up onto the altar, Kenji supported Alkanphel's upper body and helped him into a more comfortable position. Placing his right hand atop Kenji's left, Alkanphel rubbed Kenji's hand the way that he had seen Masaki do so many times when the boy had expressed a need for comfort.

__

-Good night, my loyal sons.-

-We will come back for you when you awaken, Lord Alkanphel.-

As Alkanphel closed his eyes, preparing for his hibernation, he sensed the familiar and expected surge of energy as Masaki and Kenji teleported out.

XxXxX

As he considered Lord Alkanphel's words, Imakarum turned to study his son again. Ingriam seemed to be satisfied, but Imakarum could also sense a slight thread of uneasiness.

__

-What is it, my son?-

-Are you sure that Alkanphel's going to be comfortable there? I mean, he doesn't even have a blanket, or any pillows.-

Imakarum blinked rapidly, torn between laughter at such a statement – perfectly in character for his son, no matter what name he went by – and a desire to reassure Ingriam that everything would work out. This would have to be the last time, though, no matter what Lord Alkanphel had said: in spite of all his wisdom and knowledge, he was not and had never been a father.

It was a harsh fact that Ingriam, while a loyal and dedicated son, was very weak. All of the other Zoalords knew and had recognized this truth, even Lord Edward, who had formed a rather close bond with him, knew how weak Ingriam was. The boy would have to learn what it truly meant to be a Zoalord, to be part of the Council, and there was simply no way he would ever be able to learn these things if Imakarum stayed with him.

Ingriam seemed to be waiting on his response, so Imakarum considered his son's words for a moment. _-Lord Alkanphel will be fine, Kenji-chan.-_

-Oh, well that's good.-

Imakarum bit the tip of his tongue, realizing that he had just referred to Ingriam by the diminutive pet name he had used when his son was still merely a child. It was not suitable at all for a Zoalord— especially not one who now outranked him in the Council hierarchy. Ingriam was the new Ninth Zoalord, and was therefore not to be treated as a child anymore.

That was why Imakarum knew he had to leave: he knew that he would never be able to see Ingriam as the Zoalord he now was, but only as the child he had once been. He knew that it was in Ingriam's best interest that he withdrew and allowed the new Ninth Zoalord to take the place he had been assigned in the Council. If he stayed, Imakarum knew that Ingriam would inevitably retreat back into his shadow. Kenji Murakami could have done that; Ingriam Mirabilis could not.

As he and Ingriam made their way back into the lower areas of Chronos' Cloud Tower, Imakarum saw that his own Zoanoids were reacting to Ingriam's new mental presence, but Ingriam still seemed fairly oblivious to their reactions. Doubtless, his thoughts still resided with Lord Alkanphel on Silha. The boy _would_ learn to focus, given enough time, but perhaps it would be best if the Hyper Zoanoid Team Five stayed in the Africa Section with him. The new Ninth Zoalord would come to understand his place within the Chronos hierarchy with their aid of Team Five. Before he could begin to second-guess his decision, Imakarum wrapped his left arm around Ingriam's shoulders and teleported them both to the main outpost of the Africa Section.

It was local night, much to Imakarum's relief—it would prove a great deal easier if Ingriam was unconscious when he left. Positioning himself directly behind his son, Imakarum used his telepathic power to put him to sleep. Taking the weight of the Ninth Zoalord's slumbering form, Imakarum carried him to the room's only bed. At one time, the bed had belonged to Luggnagg De Krumeggnik, but that had been before the former Ninth had been outed as a traitor. Now it belonged to Ingriam Mirabilis; it was time that he got used to using it.

Once Imakarum had finished settling Lord Ingriam into his new bed, he could not help permitting himself one last paternal indulgence, but a light kiss on Lord Ingriam's upturned right temple was all he allowed himself. Giving instructions to Team Five to make certain that Lord Ingriam found his place within the Africa Section's main outpost, Imakarum teleported back to Japan Section's Cloud Tower.

Gathering the Hyper Zoanoid Team Five to his location, Imakarum placed his right hand on Zektor's shoulder and teleported the entirety of Team Five to the main outpost of the Africa Section. He made certain that he had brought them in outside of the range of Ingriam's senses, but once he was finished with that, Imakarum remembered the one thing Ingriam had left with him. The one thing that his son would be missing.

Kaji. Considering his next actions carefully, Imakarum went to his room and retrieved the plush toy that his son was so fond of. For a moment, he considered destroying it—it was a childish thing, the toy he held, and Lord Ingriam Mirabilis was no longer the child he had been. But then his feelings, those damnable paternal instincts of his, made themselves known again.

Kaji had belonged to Kenji, and Kenji had been his son. He still was, if Imakarum were to be truly honest with himself, and no matter how much he tried to convince himself otherwise, Ingriam was still Kenji in every way that mattered.

Before he could start trying to convince himself not to do so, Imakarum had teleported back to the Genesis Foundation in the Africa Section. Handing the plush toy to Zektor, Imakarum gave the Hyper Zoanoid orders to deliver it to Ingriam if the Ninth Zoalord expressed an interest in having it.

"Should I tell him that you sent it with me?" Zektor asked, radiating confusion.

__

-No.-


	89. Nightfall

Once Lord Imakarum had teleported out, Zektor looked back down at the plush toy that he'd been handed. He didn't really know why Lord Ingriam would want to have some beat-up old stuffed toy, but then again he hadn't known Lord Ingriam for all that long. Heck, last he'd known, the Genesis Foundation had been commanded by Lord Luggnagg De Krumeggnik. Ingriam Mirabilis hadn't even been mentioned to him.

Then again, it wasn't all that often that the Zoalords actually told him what was going on among their ranks. He hadn't even known that Lord Purg'stall had taken over the running of the Japan Section in Commander Gyou's absence. There'd also been the slightly strange situation that no one actually seemed to know just where the Commander had run off to, or they just didn't want to tell him if they did. It wasn't a situation that Zektor liked in the slightest, but it was one he had to deal with.

"So what do we do now?" Elegen asked.

"You guys make yourselves comfortable for the night," Zektor said. "I've got something to deliver."

As the other members of Team Five nodded and left, Zektor made his way to Lord Mirabilis' sleeping quarters. Lord Imakarum had already given him the information he needed to find it—which had made him feel rather dizzy for a minute but he still didn't know why he was being asked to deliver a stuffed toy to the new commander of the Africa Section.

The thing looked pretty ragged, like it had been either badly beat up or was just really old. Again, Zektor had to wonder just what Lord Imakarum was having him do, delivering something this ratty-looking to the new ruler of the Genesis Foundation. Still, it wasn't like he had a real choice in the matter. Lord Imakarum had made it damn well clear just how much he wanted Lord Mirabilis to have that toy. Whatever the Twelfth Zoalord's reasons were, it was Zektor's job to make sure that Lord Ingriam Mirabilis had what he needed, though why Lord Imakarum thought that one of those things included a beat up old stuffed toy…

Zektor shrugged. It really wasn't any of his business what the Zoalords were thinking, and trying to do that was pretty much begging for either a severe headache or a really painful mental bitchslapping, both of which he hoped to avoid. Sighing as he stepped inside the elevator that would take him up to the top of the towering skyscraper, Zektor hit the top button and then leaned back against the far wall.

The ride was long and boring, since the building was eighty stories tall – and that wasn't even counting the underground levels – and Zektor had started out on the bottom level. The one thing the Hyper Zoanoid was grateful for was the complete absence of any elevator music: he'd hated that stuff ever since he'd first been exposed to it at one of the other Chronos bases. He couldn't really remember which, but the fact remained that he couldn't stand it. He liked having some peace and quiet for once, short-lived as it was probably going to be.

Once the elevator had reached the top of the building and the Zoalord waiting there, Zektor stepped off the elevator and into the room where he could sense Lord Mirabilis' presence. The sounds inside the room made it clear that their new Zoalord overseer was sleeping, and pretty deeply given the fact that he hadn't woken up when Zektor came in. The Hyper Zoanoid hadn't even been _trying_ to keep quiet. No doubt about it, this guy slept like the dead.

In Zektor's experience, guys who slept like that were really pissy when they got woken up too early for their tastes. He didn't even want to _imagine_ what it would be like to have to deal with a pissy Chronos Overlord, so he just left the stuffed toy on the nightstand by the guy's bed and slipped quietly out of the room. He wondered what kind of guy this new Zoalord overseer of theirs was. Kinda strange, if he really wanted that stuffed toy on his nightstand.

Still, most of the Zoalords Zektor knew had their quirks. So what if this guy – their new boss – had an old stuffed animal that he kept with him. It couldn't be much weirder than what he'd heard about Lord Waferdanos and his obsession with plants. That kind of quirkiness was the stuff of legends as far as Zektor was concerned. Looking over his shoulder at Lord Mirabilis again, Zektor smiled slightly: the guy was kind of cute when he was sleeping. Time would tell if that kind of cuteness would last through the day, though.

Once he was outside the door, Zektor loosed a jaw-cracking yawn. It was time to go find a place to sleep for the night, which meant kicking some poor slob – whether a Standard Zoanoid or a human he didn't really care – out of his quarters, since all the choicest spots were probably taken by now. Yawning again, Zektor headed off to find himself a place to sleep.

The leader of Team Five knew that he could always room with Elegen— the other Hyper Zoanoid would be more than happy to have him there—but Zektor wasn't in the mood for sex as much as he was in the mood for a good, uninterrupted sleep. He could always check in on Elegen later. That thought made Zektor smile for a minute, and so did the sight of one of the doors opening and a Standard Zoanoid being bodily thrown out into the hallway.

Darzerb had probably done that one, since he was the only one strong enough to toss them hard enough that they bounced off the opposite wall, which was exactly what this guy had just finished doing. He, probably a Ramochis judging by his build, was getting up and heading back to Darzerb's new room.

"Scram, peon," Zektor snapped, smirking as he smacked the Standard Zoanoid upside the head.

It made a rude, extremely obscene gesture at Zektor before the Hyper Zoanoid had turned away, so Zektor considered himself well within his rights to punch the little bastard hard enough that he smacked headfirst into the wall again. Turning away from the Ramochis, Zektor headed over to Darzerb's door and knocked twice.

"It's me," Zektor said, and then yawned. "Open up; I've got a question for you."

The door slid into the wall, letting Zektor get a good look at his fellow Hyper Zoanoid. Darzerb slouched lazily in the doorway, his shirt and suit jacket off, evidently getting ready for bed. "What is it?"

"Are there any empty rooms left?"

"Yeah," the large, dark-skinned Hyper Zoanoid said, smirking. "There's one right next to my room, in fact."

"Good. I was hoping to get some shut-eye before we have to go meet the new boss tomorrow."

"Speaking of which, you didn't really give him that stuffed toy, did you?"

"What, and have the Twelfth Zoalord come over here and bash my skull in?" Zektor scoffed. "Of course I gave it to him. If he doesn't like it, he can take it up with that guy. I'm not getting in on that little spat if there even is one. I'm just doing my job here."

"That's a good plan," Darzerb said.

"I know," Zektor grinned. "That's why _I_ thought of it."

Darzerb rolled his eyes as he closed the door, leaving Zektor free to walk up to the next room over. It wasn't locked, of course, since Standard Zoanoid's weren't allowed to lock their doors. With the Guyvers around, there was always a chance that they'd be called into combat at a moment's notice. The same was most certainly _not_ true for Hyper Zoanoids: they were the elite of Chronos' forces, not just cannon fodder who were sent out on any old mission.

When the door slid open, Zektor took a look at his new room. It was nice—no wonder the other guys had picked out these rooms for themselves. The Standard Zoanoid, a Galma this time, was just starting to turn around when Zektor marched into the room, grabbed him by the collar of his shirt, and threw him out. Not in the mood to deal with another annoying Standard Zoanoid, Zektor closed the door and locked it quickly.

There was some random crap in the room—probably personal effects or something—and Zektor tossed it in the trash on his way to the bed. It was a nice, soft-looking twin bed, and he threw himself down on it with complete and utter relish. This one was one of the good, springy beds that only the upper-level rooms came furnished with. Just as he was starting to settle himself for a nice, restful sleep, he heard the Galma start to pound on the door. Ignoring the noise, Zektor rolled over and fell asleep.


	90. Deceptive Battles

Lightning lanced into the ground where he had been standing, just as Ryan leaped out of the way.

__

)Well, this is another fine mess you've managed to get us into, kid,( Elegen grumped.

__

)Oh, yeah, like it's my fault Señor Nutjob here decided to jump out at us. You forgetting again that I don't have super senses when I don't have the Guyver?(

Another lightning bolt, one that forced Ryan to run out of the way and duck two more, kept him from concentrating on Elegen's reply, so he didn't know whether or not the Hyper Zoanoid had had anything else to say to him. More of Purg'stall's lightning crashed down around him, and Ryan had to practically cartwheel to get out of the way of most of it.

__

)I think it's time we changed tactics,( Elegen sent.

__

)You know, I think you're right.(

Ryan's eyes started to glow a fierce, electric yellow-green as Elegen joined him in the forefront of their shared mind. The next bolt of lightning that Purg'stall threw at them was channeled into Ryan's fingers, down his arms, into his body, and into the ground through his feet. Ryan felt a slight residual tingling as the electrical energy passed through him, but he had gotten used to it by now. Besides, it was better than the alternative.

Purg'stall threw another lightning bolt, and this time Elegen caught it and dosed it with his own electrical power. The ball of energy crackled in their hands, and Ryan launched it back at Purg'stall like Sammy Sosa pitching a fastball. It didn't do bupkus against the Zoalord, of course, but Elegen still like the fact that he could do this kind of thing to the people who had once been able to dictate his every move.

The fact that he could toss Freddy Purg'stall's – or, as the kid called him, Señor Nutjob's – own lightning right back at him made Elegen feel as if he could take on anyone. Another bolt of lightning seared the air, and Elegen threw it back at Purg'stall with Ryan's help.

XxXxX

Unknown to both Ryan and Elegen, Dr. Balkus had planned this fight down to the smallest possible detail. He had wanted for a long time to see what the exact mental effects of Guyver V's bonding with one of his Hyper Zoanoids would be. Normally, humans were not susceptible to a Zoalord's mental control, but since Guyver V was no longer purely human, there was a chance that he or one of the other Zoalords would be able to at least influence him.

The boy's own mind usually provided enough interference that even Dr. Balkus could not reach the Hyper Zoanoid within him, but now that both of them were present for the battle, Dr. Balkus concentrated his formidable telepathic powers on the Hyper Zoanoid within Guyver V's mind. Since both the boy and the Hyper Zoanoid were far more concerned with evading the bolts of electricity that Lord Purg'stall was using against them than keeping their guard up in case he or any of the other Zoalords tried to take advantage of their distraction, Dr. Balkus knew that he would have an easier time of this than usual.

Feeling his way along the connection that he possessed with all of his Zoanoids, whether they were of the Hyper-class or not, Dr. Balkus found himself half in and half out of the boy's mind. Apparently, the boy's mind was far more closely connected to that of his Hyper Zoanoid than any of the Zoalords had suspected. Dr. Balkus, using his connection to Elegen's mind, felt along the boy's nerves until he had located the ones that controlled the movement of the boy's leg.

Watching the battle between Lord Purg'stall and the boy playing out on the main screen, Dr. Balkus saw the boy's left leg jerk convulsively and kick out from under him. The boy managed to catch himself on his hands instead of falling face-first to the ground, but the recovery still cost him precious time—time that Lord Purg'stall used to used to wrap a hand around the boy's right ankle.

Dr. Balkus saw Lord Purg'stall drag the boy backwards by his leg and fling him over his head. The boy looked more winded this time, but he did still manage to keep himself from cracking his skull against the pavement. Crouger was extremely resilient, even he had to admit that, but it was still annoying on a professional level that a mere human boy was able to do this much damage to Chronos on his own.

Even if he was in possession of a Guyver, this one should have been easy prey for himself or any of the other Zoalords. Not only was the boy physically and mentally fused with a Hyper Zoanoid, which would give even young Ingriam a way to get inside his mind, but this one was also obstinate and reckless. It should have been simplicity itself for any of the Zoalords to force the boy to turn himself over to Chronos.

And yet he had continued to elude them. It was infuriating—simply infuriating—but now was not the time to think about that. Now was the time to focus on the boy's mind, to see if this time his telepathic power would be able to overwhelm the boy's formidable will. Lightning seared the air again, both from Lord Purg'stall and from the boy, and Dr. Balkus concentrated on Elegen's mind.

Easing himself back into the boy's mind that way, Dr. Balkus started to map the boy's nerves. Tracking the movement of electrical impulses along those minuscule fibers, he tried to find the source of the electrical powers that the Fifth Guyver wielded. As more electricity crackled down the boy's arms, Dr. Balkus tracked the path of the electrical pulses as they traveled through the boy's body. They seemed to originate from a point between his shoulder blades.

In fact, the origin of the electricity was a point exactly between and below the boost-stimulus tissue on his back. There were some very odd nerve clusters in that area, something that Dr. Balkus thought could not exist in a human body. They were almost identical to the nerve clusters that existed in the same area of the bodies of his Elegen-type Hyper Zoanoids.

It made a great deal of sense that the boy's body would have been altered in this way, since there was very little chance of an unaltered human ever being able to utilize Elegen's electrical powers this way. Still, there was a chance that the boy's body had not fully adjusted to his new abilities. It was perhaps a slim one, but Dr. Balkus knew that he would be remiss in his duty to Chronos if he did not explore all avenues of dealing with this anomalous boy.

It was then that Dr. Balkus realized that the boy's attention had fallen on him. Guyver V _knew_ he was there.

__

)Well now, if it isn't the dime-store Santa Clause rip-off,( the boy sneered, showing more experience with telepathic contact than Dr. Balkus would have ever credited him with.

__

-You are aggravating me, child,- Dr. Balkus said.

__

)What, no "you'll live to regret this, you foolish boy?"( the child needled. Dr. Balkus ignored him. _)I thought an overacting dork like you would welcome the chance to say something like that.(_

-I will not waste my time trading barbs with you, Ryan Crouger, Fifth Guyver. I will, however, offer you one more chance to join up with our glorious organization.-

)And I will, of course, offer you one more chance to take your offers and shove them up your ass.( Now the child was openly mocking him.

Dr. Balkus fumed, but he truthfully had not expected anything better of the boy. The Fifth Guyver was heedless, impetuous, and very willful when it came to his own desires. It was one of the more annoying aspects of his youth, something that Dr. Balkus fervently hoped that the boy would outgrow quickly. Perhaps, though, there was another way to obtain the power of the Fifth Guyver.

__

-Lord Purg'stall.-

-Yes, Lord Hamilcal?-

-Distract the boy. Force him to rely entirely on the Hyper Zoanoid within him.-

-For what purpose, Lord Hamilcal?-

-I have a plan that will bring him over to our side, but for this I will require your aid,- Dr. Balkus said as he watched the boy dodge another of Lord Purg'stall's lightning bolts.

__

-Very well, Lord Hamilcal.-


	91. Unusual Captive

When the electricity that Freddy Purg'stall had been throwing at them suddenly increased in intensity by about five times, Elegen knew that they weren't going to be able to risk calling the Guyver. To say nothing of the fact that _he_ couldn't call the Guyver on his own, there was also the fact that if the kid tried to call the Guyver, they both would end up getting fried by old Purg'stall. They had learned through hard experience by now that to call the Guyver, the kid needed to be fully in charge of his body.

Elegen figured that it was because his brainwaves interfered when the kid was trying to call the Guyver. Anyone (well, at least the two of them) knew the kid couldn't just throw lightning bolts whenever he felt like it. It probably had something to do with the fact he wasn't an Elegen, and Elegen himself wasn't quite human. Sure, Elegen might have been able to look human at one point in time, but that wasn't really the same thing as still _being_ human.

But if he thought about that kind of thing too much, he would get depressed—in this case blasted—so Elegen focused on the battle. The kid was really getting used to the whole "two minds in one body" thing, but then most people _were_ pretty damned adaptable when they put their minds to it. Firing off another blast of electricity, Elegen felt the kid dodging out of the way of another bolt.

But when old Purg'stall started blasting them with a huge wall of electricity, the kid had to stand still to channel all of the electricity safely into the ground. It wasn't until he started feeling a mental intrusion that Elegen started to get worried. He didn't know just what old man Balkus and the kid had been talking about, but now the kid seemed to be distracted by something.

As the kid's focus slipped farther and farther from the battle, Elegen found himself having to take charge of more of the kid's basic functions. First the arms, as the kid's attention turned to something else. By the time he had to take over the working of the kid's legs, Elegen was wondering just what the hell could be so damned important that it would distract the kid this badly when he was _being attacked by a lightning-throwing maniac_.

Still, it wasn't as if the kid was in any real danger. They both knew by now that the mental commands of Zoalords meant pretty much nothing to them. It was a nice feeling for Elegen, to be able to all but spit in the eye of people who had treated him like cannon fodder. Particularly expensive cannon fodder, like all Hyper Zoanoids, but still cannon fodder. When he started to hear the kid screaming, Elegen dove out of the way of another barrage from Purg'stall, then focused his attention inward.

__

)Kid! What's wrong? Hey, kid? Ryan?(

Whatever was happening, it sounded like something _really _bad. Elegen turned and ran, wanting to get as far away from Purg'stall as was humanly possible so that he could find out what was wrong with the kid and help him. Feeling a strong mental force—one he had never expected to feel ever again—Elegen almost stopped in his tracks, but forced himself to start moving again. Ryan might have been a pain in the ass sometimes, but they were in this fight together now, as cheesy as that sounded. Besides, he'd come to think of the kid as a sort of honorary member of Team Five. He wasn't quite a replacement for any of his old friends, but the kid had helped him do things he'd never been able to do before. Escaping from Aptom had only been the tip of the proverbial iceberg.

The mental waves came again, stronger, and Elegen recognized them as both Freddy Purg'stall and old Balkus'.

__

-I would appreciate it, Elegen, if you would not refer to me in such a crude manner.-

)I'd appreciate it, Freddy, if you would shut the hell up!(

There wasn't an answer in any normal sense, but Elegen felt Purg'stall reaching out for him mentally again. This time, since he didn't have Ryan's mind to hide behind – not that he liked to think of it that way – he was pretty much helpless against the Zoalord's mental coercion. Elegen stopped in his tracks after a futile struggle that lasted only a minute, if even that.

Feeling Purg'stall's hands settling on his shoulders, Elegen made one last attempt to get away from the Zoalord. It did jack shit, of course, but it did somehow make Elegen feel better about himself. Then he heard a slight popping sound, just before he found himself standing in front of one of Chronos' holding cells. He didn't know just where he was anymore, since he knew that Zoalords could teleport to pretty much wherever the hell they felt like. He could still be somewhere in Japan, or he could be halfway around the world. Since all Chronos bases looked the same, especially the holding areas, he had no way of knowing. All he knew was that he had just been tossed into a Chronos holding cell, and there was very little chance of him ever getting out again, especially without Ryan to help him.

Falling onto the hard floor of the holding cell, Elegen turned barely fast enough to see Purg'stall teleport out. The fact that the Zoalord was out of his hair didn't mean much to Elegen. He was far more concerned with what had happened to Ryan when they had been fighting together. If something like that could happen again… well, the consequences didn't really bear thinking about.

__

)Ryan, you still with me?(

)Ow, ow, more ow, and just for argument's sake, ow.(

)Hurts?(

)Yeah, kinda. I don't know just what that ugly bastard did to me, but I am going to find a way to pay him back for it.(

)I'll help,( Elegen offered, thinking dark thoughts about one of his former bosses.

__

)I thought you would,( Ryan sent.

When they heard the footsteps—a lot of them—coming toward their cell, Ryan sighed and Elegen mentally rolled his eyes.

__

)How much you wanna bet that's the welcoming committee, kid?(

)I'm not going to bet on that one, Snake-head. It's a sure thing.(

)I guess you're right about that, kid.(

Sure enough, when their focus snapped back to the outside world, they found a small squad of Zoanoids standing just outside the bars.

"Come with us, kid, you're wanted."

"And don't try to make any trouble," another Zoanoid growled, trying to be threatening.

Considering how many Zoanoid kills Ryan and Elegen had claimed by now, this attempt fell rather flat.

"And what if I don't feel like it, huh, big and ugly? What if I'd rather stay here in this _quaint_ little cell?" Ryan drawled, his voice practically oozing sarcasm.

"That wasn't a request, kid," another Zoanoid snarled as the door of the cell slammed open.

The Zoanoids, still in their human forms, walked in. They were obviously going for that "strength in numbers" deal. Just as Ryan was about to call his Guyver, all of the Zoanoids rushed him at once. Though Ryan did have an advantage in that he was smaller and faster than his Zoanoid captors were, their numbers did give them a distinct benefit. To his credit though, Ryan did put up a very good fight.

Even with Elegen helping him, blasting any Zoanoid that got too close with his electricity, Ryan was unable to concentrate long enough to be able to call his Guyver. And, after the swarming Zoanoids had transformed into their battle-forms, even Elegen's painful blasts of electricity weren't enough to deter them. Ryan stood his ground for as long as he could, but when one of the Zoanoids slammed his head into the back wall of the cell and the others rushed him, even Elegen's help couldn't keep the Zoanoids from overwhelming him.

__

)Ow.(

)Yeah. I wonder what they're going to do to us?( Elegen sent, thinking more dark thoughts about old man Balkus.

__

)Nothing pleasant, I'd wager.(

Elegen and Ryan both sighed, one physically and one only in the mental sense. As the Zoanoids picked Ryan up and carried him out of the cell, Elegen retreated to the back of Ryan's mind, determined not to give old man Balkus something else to use against them. As the Zoanoids continued to carry Ryan, he was absorbed in studying what he could of the layout of the place where he was being held.

You never really knew when an escape opportunity would present itself, after all, and Ryan wanted to be as prepared as he could for that to happen. Besides, his constant looking around seemed to annoy the Zoanoids for some reason, so that was a bonus. The group of them, with Ryan in the middle, made their way deeper into the building. Or at least that's what they seemed to be doing as far as Ryan knew. They sure as hell weren't taking him to the exit; that much he was sure of.

Once their group had made it to some huge room easily large enough to hold a three-story parking garage, the Zoanoids who had been standing in front of him moved beside him. The ones who had been standing beside him clamped their hands down tightly on Ryan's shoulders and arms, firmly restraining him while at the same time frog-marching him up to the fancy chair at the front of the room.

__

)Jeez, it's Mt. Minakami all over again,( Elegen groused. _)Can't these guys ever think of something original?(_

)Somehow, though, I don't think the room's quite big enough,( Ryan sent, seeming to laugh.

__

)What's that supposed to mean?( Elegen asked.

__

)I can feel his ego pressing down on me even as we speak.(

As Elegen started laughing, Ryan turned his attention back to the guy in the fancy chair. Once it started turning toward him, though, Ryan realized that what he was looking at was a fancy _swivel_ chair. Dr. Balkus was sitting in it. The Zoanoids, obviously wanting to show some kind of respect to their boss, knelt before the chair where Dr. Balkus was sitting while at the same time forcing Ryan to his knees as well.

Ryan rolled his eyes, not even bothering to hide the action from the overdressed Santa Clause wannabe in from of him.

"Greetings, Fifth Guyver," Balkus said, managing somehow to sound infuriatingly superior and bored out of his freaking skull at the same time.

__

)No, kid, I think the whole bored out of the skull thing is just you.(

)You're probably right about that, Snake-head.(


	92. Point Blank

_)I know I'm right,(_ Elegen sent with self-mocking smugness. _)I've had to take orders from that ugly bastard more times then I want to remember. I know more about him than anyone.(_

_)Now, I wouldn't go that far, Snake-head. I'm sure there are other Zoanoid stiffs that know Mr. Loser there just as well as you do.(_

The sudden, sharp pain registered in Ryan's and Elegen's minds just then, and Ryan peeled himself up off the floor. The Zoanoids were all snickering at him, but at some undefined signal they all shut up.

"I will not tolerate such disrespect from you, Fifth Guyver," Balkus growled.

"Bite me, you wrinkled old bastard," Ryan hissed.

Balkus narrowed his eyes at Ryan, and only the fact that Ryan was being restrained by the Zoanoids again kept him from flipping said wrinkled old bastard the bird. The Zoanoids dug their claws into his arms and shoulders, probably trying to let him know that they meant business. Ryan could have given a crap, but since they were the ones currently in the position of power, Ryan knew that he would have to play along. At least for a while.

"I presume that you want to know why I have had you brought to me," Balkus said with his usual annoying solemnity.

"It's somewhere on the list, yeah," Ryan said, deliberately flippant.

"I do not find you amusing, human."

"And again I say to you: bite me."

One of the Zoanoids slapped Ryan in the back of the head; Ryan felt the thing's claws cutting into his scalp.

_)How 'bout this, kid? I go back to my usual out-of-the-way spot, and you call the Guyver and kick Dr. Stupid's ass for both of us.(_

_)No objections on my end, Snake-head.(_

Blinking as he shifted mental gears, Ryan made a concerted effort not to smirk as he felt Elegen retreating to his normal place at the back of their mind. Not bothering to pull away from the Zoanoids who would be inevitably be disintegrated by the shockwave that the Guyver always generated when it was called, Ryan took a deep breath… and was roughly tackled to the ground by the Zoanoids who had been crouched behind him.

_)Goddamn it all!( _Elegen snarled.

_)Remind me to maim that guy when we get loose,( _Ryan sent.

_)I don't think I'm going to have to remind you about that, but if you want me to I'm sure I could remember it,( _Elegen chuckled coldly, in the mental sense.

Even as Ryan was about to pick himself up off the floor, the Zoanoids grabbed hold of him again and held him up.

"You know, this is getting really old," Ryan drawled. "Up, down, up, down. Will you make up your freakin' _mind_ already?"

The glare that Dr. Balkus shot him would have stripped paint off a wall, but the only response Ryan gave him in return was a loud, wet raspberry. That, of course, earned him a headfirst smack into the floor.

_)You're a real glutton for punishment, aren't you, kid?(_

_)It's not my fault that the Great Bearded Jerk-Off there doesn't deal well with a little honest criticism.(_

_)Kid, if that was honest criticism, I'm a mongoose.(_

Blinking, Ryan noticed that the Zoanoids were carrying him off somewhere. His first thought was that they were taking him back to the cell he'd been so unceremoniously shoved into when he'd first been taken. As it turned out, though, the Zoanoids holding him weren't heading back to the holding cells to toss him in again. Ryan knew this because Elegen knew the basic layout of most – if not all – of the larger Chronos bases.

This one hadn't been changed in any significant ways, at least not according to Elegen, so Ryan was reasonably sure that he wasn't being taken back to the holding cell. That didn't make him feel much better, since Elegen thought the Zoanoids were taking him to the processing labs. Neither of them actually believed that Dr. Balkus would take the time or the risk to process a Guyver. Not that Ryan was exactly _reassured _by the fact that he was being taken to a Chronos laboratory, since there were a lot of other very unpleasant things that Dr. Butt-kiss could do to him while he was there. Live dissection came to mind. As the Zoanoids continued to shove him forward relentlessly, Ryan continued to look for a possible avenue of escape. It just wasn't in his nature to give up without a struggle, even in spite of common sense, but nothing presented itself, and Ryan soon found himself inside the laboratory, roughly hustled toward a table. The fact that this particular table came fully equipped with restraints didn't make him feel any better about the fact that he was being shoved and marched straight toward it. Still, Dr. Dorkus hadn't left the room yet, so that meant that Elegen wouldn't be able to help him without inviting some seriously bad consequences. It also meant that the Zoanoids would have an easier time taking him down if he made any stupid moves.

_)Don't tell me you're just going to give up like that, kid. Without even a fight?(_

_)You know I'm not the type to just lay down and die,(_ Ryan sent back. _)I just have to find a way to make this work.(_

The Zoanoids, leering at Ryan for his seemingly complete surrender, shoved him against the table. Slamming his gut into the cold steel of the operating table, the Zoanoids snickered at Ryan as he glared at them. There was no sense asking Elegen for help, though, since with Dr. Asshole still in the room Elegen would do more harm than good if he tried to assist.

_)Okay, you've got a point there, kid. Still, I'm not going to just give up here.(_

_)Neither am I.(_

As the Zoanoids yanked him up off of the floor and slammed him into the operating table with particularly brutal force, Ryan bit down on his tongue to keep from yelling. The Zoanoids wouldn't have listened to him anyway, and there no way Ryan was going to show any kind of weakness in front of Dr. Bastard. Said bastard was probably getting off on watching him dragged around like this.

When the last of the restraints had been fastened around his wrists, Ryan watched as Dr. Bastard came up to him. When he leaned in, either to start gloating or because he wanted a closer look, Ryan hocked the nastiest loogie he could manage, right into the Zoalord's face. The fact that it hit Dr. Bastard in the eye was a bonus as far as Ryan was concerned.

_)Nice bulls-eye, kid.(_

It was a fun bonus, though. Even the backhanding that Ryan got from one of the Gregole in payment for the loogie didn't make it any less satisfying to see Dr. Asshole with spit and mucous dripping down his face. Dr. Bastard turned to one of the Zoanoids, probably giving it orders since the next thing it did was to fetch something for him to wipe the spit off his face with.

Ryan couldn't keep himself from laughing at the expression on the old fart's face, even though it did earn him another slap from one of the Zoanoids that Dr. Asshole had gathered around him—a Ramochis this time. One of the Gregole who'd been glaring at him for spitting in Dr. Bastard's face came up, slammed his head against the table, and locked another restraint around Ryan's neck.

"All this for little old me?" Ryan taunted. "I'm flattered. I didn't even know you were into bondage."

Dr. Bastard just glared at him again. Then he left, probably to get whatever it was he needed.

_)You planning to call the Guyver now?(_

_)You do notice how close those Zoanoids are standing, right Snake-head? They'd come down on me like a ton of cinderblocks before I could even open my mouth.(_

_)They probably wouldn't be quite that fast, kid. But I get ya. So, what are we going to do?(_

_)We're going to find a way out of this; just don't ask me how yet.(_

Elegen seemed to sigh, but he didn't say anything else. That was when Ryan noticed that Dr. Bastard was back again, standing over him and holding a scalpel.

"Careful where you're pointing that thing, you mad scientist, it's kinda sharp."

_)Could you try not to antagonize the guy who looks like he wants nothing more than to turn us into cold cuts? I don't know about you and your masochistic tendencies, kid, but I'm really not in the mood to be carved up like a Thanksgiving turkey.(_

_)And you think I am? Does the word "distraction" not mean anything to you, Snake-head?(_

_)You're trying to distract him?(_

_)That's what I said, isn't it?(_

_)I have told you today that you're completely nuts, right, kid?(_

_)No, I think you've skipped over today.(_

_)You're completely nuts, kid.(_


	93. Unorthodox Escape

Fried'rich van Purg'stall, pacing inside his stronghold at Chronos Japan Section's Cloud Tower, wondered about the decision he had made. While he had often supported Lord Hamilcal in his scientific endeavors, the fact remained that the Second Zoalord had made his desire to dissect the Fifth Guyver quite clear. He did not seem to be at all concerned whether the boy was alive during the process or not.

While it was a fact that Guyvers were dangerous by their very nature, there was a chance that if this boy was treated fairly he could perhaps be persuaded to aid rather than oppose Chronos' ideals. This endeavor certainly would not make the boy any more inclined to think kindly of the organization in general or the Zoalords in particular. Still, if the boy were killed, any negative feelings he harbored against Chronos and the Zoalords would be of no consequence.

Fried'rich was not certain whether or not he preferred the boy dead or a loyal servant of the Chronos syndicate. Ryan Crouger, was unorthodox and almost impossible to predict. It made him a very formidable opponent, true, however the discipline required by the members of Chronos was lost on him. The boy actively rejected that kind of discipline. He would not have been ideally suited for any kind of high position in Chronos with his present attitude, but there were ways of educating him so he would at least show the proper respect to his superiors. At times, Fried'rich thought that that was what Lord Hamilcal had been intending to do with the Fifth Guyver before the boy had escaped and joined the other two Guyvers in their battle.

He still wondered if there was some way the Fifth Guyver could be persuaded to support Chronos' glorious cause. There was one clear way, but that would require Fried'rich to betray the very organization he supported wholeheartedly. The Fifth Zoalord was not going to take such drastic measures merely for the sake of a Guyver, so he would simply have to accept the fact that the boy was not going to be alive for much longer.

XxXxX

As he started making a primary incision, ignoring the inane banter and the boy's frequent and mildly annoying insults, Dr. Balkus scanned the minds of the Zoanoids around him. He had thought for a moment that he had detected another mental presence aside from those in the room with him. However, nothing presented itself to his finely developed mental senses, so he dismissed the feeling.

There _was_ a Zoanoid within this boy, hidden as the mind of that particular Elegen-type was, so that had probably been what he had briefly sensed. Dr. Balkus did not know why this Hyper Zoanoid chose to aid the Fifth Guyver, but that was not what he was particularly interested in at the moment. All he wanted to know during this examination was just how the boy managed to channel that power.

Human bodies were not made to be able to handle the amount of electricity that Elegen-type Hyper Zoanoids could generate, so he was looking for the secret to Ryan Crouger's new power in the most direct way possible. That the boy would most likely die during the dissection was not something that Dr. Balkus could find it in himself to care about. He was the Fifth Guyver, allied to those annoying Guyvers I and III.

There might have been a time when Crouger could have been an asset to Chronos' cause, but now all that the boy would be useful for was to satisfy his own curiosity about how a mere unprocessed human could have come to possess the power of an Elegen-type Hyper Zoanoid.

Continuing with the procedure, even as the Fifth Guyver made his pitiful attempts to hinder the progress of that operation, Dr. Balkus peeled back the layers of skin covering the boy's ribcage and pinned them back. He was mildly impressed by the long and elaborate hypothetical deathtrap that the boy had devised utilizing a construction crane, a wrecking ball, two sewing needles, and Dr. Balkus' own left shoe. The boy could be rather creative at times, he had to admit.

The sense of another Zoanoid entering the room did not concern him, nor did the fact that the Fifth Guyver was currently threatening to beat him to death with a pair of slippers. Such things were not even remotely possible, so there was no need to pay such close attention to the boy. The Fifth Guyver, as resourceful as he could be at times, was completely helpless. There was not a chance that he would be able to escape this facility a second time.

The boy himself most likely knew this, which made his decision to start singing all the more surprising. Dr. Balkus had never heard the song that the boy was singing before—it seemed to be merely about an ever-decreasing number of beer bottles. Not only was the song itself almost painfully repetitive, but the way the boy chose to sing it was annoying as well.

The Fifth Guyver's voice was annoyingly loud, and he constantly switched tone and pitch. He also sang off-key on a near-constant basis. Dr. Balkus knew that this could not have been his true singing voice, this irritating nasal whine. It sounded much too calculated, too forced to be anything more than another attempt by the boy to distract Dr. Balkus by getting under his skin. He was not going to give the annoying Guyver the satisfaction of that.

As he continued to work, the Fifth Guyver continued to work his way down from one thousand, and Dr. Balkus found himself gritting his teeth even in spite of his oath to himself not to be affected by what the boy was doing. The fact that he had started to sing even louder, combined with the fact that the boy was counting down from such a large starting number, was aggravating in the extreme.

Trying to take his mind off of the Fifth Guyver's efforts to irritate him, Dr. Balkus focused on his work to the exclusion of all else.

He could therefore, perhaps, be forgiven for not noticing the way the boy's hands were starting to crackle with electricity. Or for failing to detect the mind of the Hyper Zoanoid that was starting to make itself more conspicuous by lending the Fifth Guyver the power to actually discharge those bolts of energy from his fingertips no matter what form he was in.

XxXxX

As he continued to sing, Ryan noticed that Dr. Asshole wasn't really paying attention to him at all, just to the fact that he was currently carving on Ryan like he was some kind of Thanksgiving turkey. Ryan hated him; he was a bastard.

_)Hey, Snake-head, how are you making out with those restraints?(_

_)I should have them off before Dr. Psycho knows what's going on, provided you keep him from actually noticing what the hell is going on with us.(_

_)That shouldn't be to hard—at least not for a while yet,(_ Ryan sent. _)Still, try to make it fairly quick, I'm starting to get a little hoarse here.(_

_)I'll try to wrap it up as quickly as I can, kid.(_

Ryan, feeling his fingertips starting to char, focused on keeping Dr. Asshole from finding out that he was in the process of being had. The entire ruse would be worth less than nothing if that old bastard found out what he and Elegen were planning.

_)That's it, kid. The shackles are open; do your thing!(_

_)Not a problem!(_

Yanking his wrists out of the now-open restraints, Ryan jammed his fingers into Dr. Bastard's eyes.

_)Bug-zap him!(_

_)Gladly!(_

Ryan grinned almost ferally as he felt the crackle of electricity passing through his fingers on the way to Dr. Shithead's eyes. When the old bastard stumbled back, blinded and hopefully in a fair amount of pain, Ryan took a deep breath and called his Guyver before Dr. Butt-kiss or the startled Zoanoids could do a damn thing about it. Landing on the floor, on a space clear of the shattered fragments of the table he'd just been strapped to, Ryan grinned.

"Well, since your hospitality leaves a _lot_ to be desired, and you _personally_ are a sadistic, sociopathic asshole, I think I'm going to take my leave now."

Blasting the nearest Zoanoid into paste with his Pressure Cannon, Ryan ran for the now-unblocked door. As the other Zoanoids started to close in around him, Ryan extended his Vibration Blades and cut them down like ripe corn. With almost nothing in his way now that he wanted to make his escape, Ryan jammed his hands in between the threshold and the door and forced them apart.

Ducking out of the room, under a hail of fire from the Vamores that had come there with Dr. Asshole, Ryan laughed.

_)So, now that we've managed to piss off Lord I'm-a-huge-fucking-sadist and get past his small army of Zoanoids, what're you going to have us do next, kid?(_

_)I'm going to have us fight our way through the _large _army of Zoanoids that Lord Psycho is probably calling down on us even as we speak, Snake-head.(_

_)Oh. That's a good idea, then.(_

Chuckling, Ryan kept running.

Even as fast as he was moving, Ryan could still see the ranks of Zoanoids gathering around the edges of the hallway where he was running: Zoanoids that were being called by Lord Nutjob for the express purpose of beating him into the ground—not that he was going to go along with them on that. He was going to bust just as many Zoanoid skulls as it took him to get the hell out of Dodge, and then he was going to go back "home" and eat.


	94. Dangerous Plans

A Gregole jumped in to intercept him and ended up getting its head blasted through with the Pressure Cannon for its trouble. That seemed to be the catalyst for all of the other Zoanoids in the area to come down on him, so Ryan extended both sets of Vibration Blades and sliced all of those coming his way into bloody confetti. When he had enough breathing room to use the Pressure Cannon again, Ryan did it without hesitation.

The blast of the Guyver's most powerful gravity-based weapon – that is, if you didn't count the gravity-enhanced flying kicks that Ryan would often use when he had the airspace – cleared a substantial corridor in the Zoanoids that were trying to attack him. Ryan proceeded to run straight through it, all the while slicing and dicing any Zoanoid stupid enough to try and stop him.

_)You know, kid, we could always try to use that new armor we got from that weird, buried spaceship.(_

_)By "we" you mean me, right?( _Ryan sent, his mental tone mildly amused. _)I guess we could try using that thing. Still, where are we gonna get the horses I'm going to need to eat after I bust us outta here? You know that thing sucks me drier than a bone.(_

_)Yeah, but better bone-dry and alive than flat on your back and cut open by Dr. Sadist again, eh? Besides, you could always get that hot momma of yours to make you one of those delicious chicken pies of hers.(_

_)You did not just call _my Mom _hot.(_

_)What? I may not have much of a body anymore, but that doesn't mean I'm dead. Sheesh, kid.(_

_)If you had a face I'd slap you right now, Jimmy James.(_

_)Funny, kid. Real funny. I guess that makes you Dave?(_

The Zoanoid leaping out at him—one of those damn Enzyme IIs—distracted Ryan from coming up with a particularly crushing retort. Firing the Pressure Cannon at the Guyver-killer's buggy head, Ryan dodged the brief spray of acid that came out of the thing's neck. Two cricket-like Zoanoids – whether they were Galma or Razell he didn't really care – met their untimely and overly messy deaths as the ends of his Vibration Blades.

"Giga! Modify!"

_)I was in an Iron Man sorta mood just then; sue me,( _Ryan sent, in response to Elegen's burst of mental laughter.

Feeling the full-body numbness that he'd learned proceeded the activation of the Giga unit, Ryan quickly time-shifted, and before the cameras – or the Zoanoids – could catch more than a quick glimpse of his new body, Ryan ran down the halls. The time-frozen forms of Zoanoids in attack positions, or those that had been running to the aid of their fellow freaks, were still weird to him. Even after all the drastically bizarre things that had happened to him, this was still the strangest thing he'd seen. But now wasn't the time to think about things like that. Now it was time to get the hell out of this Chronos deathtrap so he could go back to the safehouse and eat. And then preferably sleep.

_)You're swearing in _Spanish_, kid. I didn't even know you _spoke _Spanish.(_

_)There are still some things even you don't know about me, eh Snake-head?(_

_)I guess so. When did you find the time to learn that language?(_

_)I had some relatives from California visiting—cousins, mostly. One of them decided to teach me some Spanish, just in case I ever decided I want to live there. Fat chance of that; that place is just way too hot for my tastes.(_

_)Given where you grew up, I'm not surprised.(_

With nothing else to say to his "inner Zoanoid", Ryan settled back onto his bed and just stared at the wall of the room he'd come to call his own. He'd just finished stuffing his face with pie—not really as good as the kind his mom made, but then, nothing really compared to that. He'd just started to get used to the fact that whenever he used the Giga for anything like that escape he'd just pulled off from Chronos and Dr. Butt-kiss in particular, he'd have to have access to something like a four-course feast just to be able to recoup the energy he lost.

Not that something like that was going to stop him the next time he needed to use it to get the hell out of Dodge. It was just nice to know what he needed to do.

Now that he was back in his bed, though, all he wanted to do was lounge around and probably take a nap. It was probably the tryptophan from all the meat he'd eaten that was knocking him out; he'd heard that stuff could knock you right out when you'd eaten as much as he had. It'd be nice to finally get some sleep, though, and now that he was back on safe ground that was just what he was going to do.

XxXxX

The next day, when he woke up, the first thing Zektor noticed was that the Galma who'd been banging on his door had left. Either he'd finally gone away, or he'd been hauled off by security some time during the night. He'd have to thank the girls if it was the latter, since he hadn't been in the mood to deal with some puny Standard Zoanoid just after he'd gotten up, especially when that particular Standard Zoanoid was going to be all pissy for no good reason.

As Zektor hauled himself up and out of bed, he knew that today was the day he'd have to go and meet the boss, their new Overlord. He just hoped that the guy was the reasonable type; there was really no telling with these Zoalords. Zektor wouldn't mind working for someone like Dr. Balkus, Lord Amniculus, or Lord Purg'stall, since those guys were more likely to berate their guys for screwing up than blow up their skulls.

Not that Zektor was worried so much about his own skin in this case, since he was a Hyper Zoanoid and hence pretty much irreplaceable, but some of the Standard Zoanoids – admittedly not a lot of them – were kind of friendly. It'd be a shame to see some of the good ones get themselves killed. Though he wouldn't mind if that Galma got his skull blown up for something. Not that he was feeling vindictive or anything.

_Enough stalling. It's time to go meet and greet the new Overlord for this place. I certainly hope he's a morning person, otherwise this ain't gonna be pleasant._ With that still in mind, Zektor dressed up in a clean uniform, tossed his old one in the hamper for the janitorial staff to take care of later, and walked out of the room. Lord Mirabilis' office was the same as the old Overlord's, at least as long as he didn't decide to relocate.

Zektor didn't know if that was likely or not, but he knew that he and his fellow Hyper Zoanoids would be called in to assist with the moving if it did. Zektor did hope that he wouldn't have to do anything like that today, but then again that wasn't really his choice to make. He was just here to do his job. Walking into Lord Mirabilis' office, Zektor was surprised to find that the office itself was empty. With Lord Mirabilis' nowhere to be found, Zektor and the other members of Team Five, who Zektor now noticed had come in just behind him, were rather abruptly at loose ends.

"Wait here, guys. I'll go see if I can find him anywhere. Lord Mirabilis might just be busy with something else."

The others nodded, continuing to stand at attention inside Lord Mirabilis' office. Zektor nodded back as he left, heading for the Zoalord's room. That was the first place he intended to look, even though it was pretty unlikely that their new Overlord was still there. As he reached the door and pushed it open, Zektor's eyes took only a few seconds to adjust to the lack of light. What he saw surprised him, so he flipped on the light, wanting to make sure that what he was seeing was really real and not some trick of his sometimes-overactive imagination. But no, he was really there; in fact, when the lights had come on, Lord Mirabilis had shifted in his bed and pulled the covers up over his head. Taking a deep breath, since what he was about to have to do freaked the holy hell right out of him, Zektor quickly crossed the remaining distance between the door and Lord Mirabilis' bed, touched the Ninth Zoalord on the shoulder, and gently shook him.


	95. Sleeping In

"Sir?" Nothing but silence. "Your Excellency?" Zektor tried nudging him a little harder; still nothing. "Ehm, Overlord?"

_-Go away; I'm sleeping.-_

With an inarticulate noise of surprise, which to Zektor's chagrin sounded like a demented cross between a grunt and a sneeze, the Hyper Zoanoid leapt back from the bed like he'd just been burned. It wasn't that the Ninth Zoalord had just used telepathy to speak to him; hell, he'd gotten comfortable with the concept after so long. That wasn't the reason that Zektor was so freaked.

No, the reason that Zektor was freaking out was because the voice in his head – Lord Mirabilis' telepathic voice, there was no doubt about it – had sounded young. Really young, like maybe six or seven. But that couldn't be right, since the guy in the bed in front of him was obviously older than twenty-five. That was just _weird_. Maybe he'd been imagining things. Zektor decided to hope for that.

"Your Excellency, it's morning, you know. Shouldn't you be up by now?"

_-Go away, stupid-head! Call my dad or something; I wanna sleep!-_

Physically shutting his gaping mouth with his left hand, Zektor stared at the Zoalord. Lord Mirabilis. Chronos Africa's new Overlord and Zoalord overseer, was either a really good actor, a certifiable eccentric, or… the last option was too weird to even _think_ about. Touching Lord Mirabilis' upturned right shoulder again, Zektor shook him gently.

The next thing he knew, Zektor felt a soft kind of impact on his head. Catching sight of Lord Mirabilis' right hand, Zektor blinked. _I just got beaned… with a plush toy?!_ Sure enough, there was a stuffed tiger – the very same old and worn plush tiger that he'd deposited on the guy's nightstand only last night, in fact – clutched in Lord Mirabilis' right hand. Watching as the still mostly asleep Chronos Overlord rolled onto his other side and pulled the blankets up over himself again, Zektor blinked.

Still severely freaked out by the Lord Mirabilis' childlike voice and manner – _this_ level of quirkiness wasn't something the Hyper Zoanoid had been prepared to deal with at all – he took a deep breath to fortify himself. Quirky or not, Lord Mirabilis was supposed to be up and working by now. Whatever else Zektor's job might entail from this point forward, it looked like the first thing he'd have to do was to get Lord Mirabilis up and dressed.

The Zoalord had a fair bit of work ahead if he was going to whip the humans in the base into shape after the recent change in management. The Zoanoids would be loyal to him, as he was their new commanding Zoalord, after all, but the humans might need a little… persuasion. Hell, humans always needed that bit of extra working-over before they'd decide to follow a new guy, especially in the kind of management-level position that Lord Mirabilis was going to be in.

So, the first order of business was to get the Zoalord out of bed and cleaned up. Then he could get dressed in the new uniform that had been shipped out to the Genesis Foundation just for him. The one in the box on top of the stack, since the one on the bottom contained his battle uniform, and _that_ thing was reserved for meetings with the other Zoalords. All of these things would have to wait until Zektor actually got the guy out of bed, though, and something told Zektor that that would take some time.

"Hey, not that I want to be a bother or anything," Zektor said, fully aware of this guy's power to blow him across the room with a single thought. Well, that and… other, less pleasant things. "I think you should be getting up now."

That little gem of wisdom nearly got Zektor smacked on the head by the Zoalord's little plush toy again, but this time the Hyper Zoanoid was fast enough to avoid it. He was also fast enough to grab the Zoalord's wrist. Keeping his grip when Lord Mirabilis was trying to fight him off, or at least smacking him with that damned plush toy of his, was a different story.

"Guys! I could really use some help in here!" Zektor shouted.

Lord Mirabilis' office was close enough to his room that the other members of Team Five wouldn't have that much trouble hearing him, and Zektor just hoped they'd come quickly. The Zoalord _had_ opened his eyes, but that only seemed to be to help him aim better since he was still beating Zektor about the head and shoulders with that goddamned toy. The other guys were inside the room just as Zektor had started seriously considering the merits of bodily tackling the Zoalord and wrestling him out of bed.

It would have made him feel a lot better—up until Lord Mirabilis inevitably splattered him across one or more of the walls. And maybe some of the ceiling, too, depending on just how pissed he was. And Zektor happened to like living, thanks, and he wanted to continue doing so for as long as he could, so that meant no body slamming his new Zoalord and dragging him out of bed no matter _how_ annoying it was to deal with him right now.

Once the other members of Team Five had come into the room, Zektor breathed a sigh of sheer relief. They would at least be able to give him something to distract Lord Mirabilis with while he tried to get that plush toy away from him, or else talk some sense into the Zoalord.

"Zektor? Hey, you sounded really… What the hell's he _doing_?" Gaster asked, stopped short by the sight of Zektor and Lord Mirabilis wrestling over a stuffed toy.

"Trying to hit me over the head with a stuffed tiger," Zektor grumbled. "Can you guys stop gawking and help me?"

"Uh, sure," Darzerb said, voice wobbling as he obviously worked to suppress chuckles. "We'll be right with you, boss."

Zektor shot an annoyed look at the largest of his teammates. "If you think this is so funny, then why don't you get over here and help me, rhino-butt? Then you'll get some _real_ laughs!" The fact that Lord Mirabilis had started laughing wasn't lost on him, and that only pissed Zektor off more.

"Keep your pants on, boss-bug. I'll give you a hand," Darzerb said, still fighting chuckles.

Lord Mirabilis wasn't even bothering to do that much, and to top it off he was laughing outright, which was starting to annoy Zektor less when he realized that the Zoalord wouldn't be hitting him with that plush toy if he was kept busy laughing. So Zektor decided to take the opportunity that the Zoalord had unintentionally presented him with. Grabbing the little plush toy out of Lord Mirabilis' slackened grip, Zektor backed away just as Lord Mirabilis' head turned in his direction.

"Hey, you give that back!" the Zoalord shouted, obviously incensed.

"Not until you promise not to hit me with it anymore," Zektor said, folding his arms and knowing full well that Lord Mirabilis would be able to make him give it back with a single thought.

Though the Zoalord didn't seem inclined to do that, which surprised Zektor since he'd thought that would be the _first_ thing Lord Mirabilis would do, given how fond he seemed to be of that thing. Lord Mirabilis _was_ leveling a particularly scathing glare at him, though, which might mean that the Zoalord didn't think it was worth the trouble of getting into Zektor's head and _making_ him give up the toy. Or it might have meant something else. What that something else was, though, Zektor wasn't really sure.

"Hey," Zektor heard Darzerb say, leaning in toward the bed that Lord Mirabilis _still_ hadn't gotten out of. "Why don't you get up, and then we can go have some breakfast? I'll even make waffles."

Zektor was just about to roll his eyes and tell Darzerb that he was being a moron – offering _waffles_ to get a _Zoalord _out of bed had to be the dumbest idea in the history of dumb ideas – when Lord Mirabilis' eyes lit up and he seemed to forget that Zektor even existed.

"Really? You mean it?"

"Yeah, sound good?" Darzerb asked, and Zektor had to work to keep himself from gawking.

"Yeah! It sounds great!"

Lord Mirabilis looked – and sounded – really enthused by the idea, leaving Zektor to wonder just _when _he'd ended up in the zone of Things That Did Not Make Sense. Lord Mirabilis was the Ninth Zoalord, and while that _was_ one of the lower ranks, the guy was still one of the Chronos Overlords. Chronos Overlords _did not_ get so excited over something so mundane as _waffles_. So why was Lord Mirabilis, who _was_ a Chronos Overlord, hopping out of bed like someone had just given him a shot of adrenaline?

And, why the _hell_ was their new Zoalord hugging Darzerb's arm?! From the look on his face, Darzerb wasn't any less confused by Lord Mirabilis' actions than Zektor himself, which oddly enough made the leader of Team Five feel a bit better about his situation. At least he wasn't the only one getting confused and slightly freaked out by their new Zoalord's bizarre antics. Lord Mirabilis didn't seem to care that every member of Team Five was currently staring at him as if he had just sprouted various new limbs. In that way, he was just like any other Zoalord.


	96. Rude Awakening

But, of course, any other Zoalord wouldn't have been caught dead acting so much like… like a _kid_. That thought made Zektor remember Lord Mirabilis' oddly young-sounding telepathic voice; it also prompted the leader of Team Five to consider that fact in a whole new light.

"Your Excellency? Just how old _are_ you?" Zektor asked, wondering for a moment if he really wanted to know the answer. Lord Mirabilis paused, but the view Zektor had of the back of the Ninth Zoalord's head didn't really let him know if the Overlord did anything else.

"I'll be seven next month," Lord Mirabilis said, squeezing Darzerb's arm.

"Oh, right," Zektor said, firmly squashing his urge to go bang his head against the nearest clear patch of wall that he could find until he had managed to wake himself up from what just _had_ to be a particularly bizarre dream. "Uhm, when were you born, sir?"

"June 17th, 1983," Lord Mirabilis answered as he and Darzerb continued walking.

_Yeah, that works out,_ Zektor thought as he started to notice the world going blurry at the edges. He vaguely heard Lord Mirabilis asking what was wrong with him before everything tilted and went black. When Zektor woke up again, he found Elegen hovering over him, an expression of concern on his face.

"Hey, lover." The leader of Team Five grinned up at his favorite subordinate. "Gimmie a kiss?" They kissed, and Zektor pulled back with a chuckle. "I've got to tell you about this really weird dream I had. We were going to meet the new Overlord for this base—you know, Lord Ingriam Mirabilis? Anyway, I dreamed that he was a kid. But not really a regular kid, you know? I dreamed that he was a kid in an adult's body, however the hell _that_ happened. Go figure, huh?"

Elegen, instead of laughing at the sheer and utter absurdity of what he'd just suggested, just gave Zektor a mildly uncomfortable look. It was almost like he'd known about the dream already, but that wasn't really possible. Elegen was a Hyper Zoanoid, after all. None of their kind could read minds like the Overlords. And why was the bed so damned hard?! Slamming his hand into the mattress beneath him produced the same sound that it did when he hit the metal floors. And the surface under him was cold, really cold. Too cold and too hard to be his nice warm bed in his room, so that meant that he wasn't in bed at all. And that meant that he hadn't been asleep. And _that_ meant… _Well, __**shit**__._

"You're not going to faint again, are you, boss?" Zancrus asked, slightly snidely.

"I didn't faint," Zektor said, turning to glare at the smallest member of his team. "Hyper Zoanoids don't _faint_."

"Then what would you call falling down like you did a second ago?" Zancrus chuckled. "You just suddenly decided to take a nap there, boss?"

"Shaddup," Zektor snapped, glaring at Zancrus even as Elegen helped him stand up again.

That was when he noticed that their commanding Zoalord, the guy they were going to be taking orders from hereon out, was laughing again. He was also sitting on Darzerb's lap, but for the moment Zektor decided to ignore that little fact to focus on the more important thing.

"Yeah, yuk it up there, kidlet. It's not like _you're_ ever going to have problems like this," Zektor snapped without thinking.

"Yeah, that's 'cause I'm not _stupid_," Lord Mirabilis said, still laughing.

When he noticed all of the rest of Team Five, even Elegen, staring at him like he'd just declared himself to be legally insane, Zektor stared back at them. "_What_?"

"Nothing," Elegen said, after checking to see Lord Mirabilis' reaction. "Nothing at all. Just forget about it."

"Can we go have those waffles now, like you promised?"

"Sure," Darzerb said, patting Lord Mirabilis' shoulder. "But you have to get washed up and dressed before we go down to eat. You're going to have a big day today."

"Sounds fun," the still pajama-clad Zoalord said, almost skipping as he and Darzerb headed for his large bathroom/dressing room.

It was severely Not Normal to see a Zoalord doing something like that, at least when people would be able to see him doing it. So that meant that in addition to making sure that Lord Mirabilis knew what to do and what to expect when he was running this place, they were also going to have to teach him how to act while he was here. It was going to be a little weird, teaching a _Zoalord_ how to act like… well, like a Zoalord. But then, maybe that was why Lord Imakarum had sent all of them out here with him.

_Wait, that's Lord Imakarum… Mirabilis. And this guy's… well, only one way to really find out, I guess._ "Hey, uhm, kidlet?"

"Yeah?" Lord Mirabilis turned to look at him with those strange, cat-slit eyes of his.

"You wouldn't happen to know Lord Imakarum, would you?"

"Oh, you mean _you've_ met my dad, too? Was he the one that gave you Kaji?"

"If you're talking about that stuffed tiger that I saw you cuddling when you were in bed, then yeah," Zektor said, deciding then and there that nothing else that Lord Mirabilis – this _kid_, this baby Zoalord – said was ever going to surprise him again.

"How did he sound?"

"What do you mean by that?" Zektor asked, raising his eyebrow at Lord Mirabilis as the six of them arrived in front of his bathroom/dressing room.

"Well, he hasn't contacted me yet," Lord Mirabilis said, looking confused enough that Zektor stepped forward and patted him on the shoulder. "He usually does that when he sends Zoanoids to pick me up. Did he say anything; like maybe he was too busy?"

"No." Zektor shook his head, moving to wrap his right arm around Lord Mirabilis' broad shoulders. "But hey, you know your dad better than I do. He might have just been too swamped to tell me he was swamped. And he _did_ send all five of us to look after you, you know."

"Yeah, you're right," Lord Mirabilis said, grinning as he turned and gave Zektor a quick squeeze around the midsection. "Well, I'm going to go wash and dress up. Wait out here for me, okay?"

"Of course, Your Excellency," Zektor said, just managing to suppress the urge to call Lord Mirabilis "kidlet" again. Once had been bad enough.

Even if the Zoalord himself hadn't mentioned it, it really wasn't proper to call your commanding Overlord something like that. Anyone who knew him knew that Zektor wasn't normally one to put much stock in propriety, even at the times when it was most called for, but this situation was different. In the extreme sense of the word.

Team Five was here to make sure that Lord Mirabilis learned how to run the African Section, and more than that they were here to make sure that the little Zoalord learned how to operate inside Chronos. Or at least, that was the impression that Lord Imakarum had given him, and one that had been thoroughly reinforced by watching the way Lord Mirabilis himself acted. His innocence, while charming in its own way, wasn't going to win him any obedience from the humans. Lord Mirabilis was a bit too… _cute_ to make it as a Chronos Overlord. The humans wouldn't respect him if he kept acting the way he did.

That was why Zektor was going to take care of him, and make _certain_ that the new Overlord of Chronos Africa knew what to do and how to act so that he could make it in Chronos. The rest of the guys were probably going to want to help him with that, and even if they didn't, Zektor knew they'd still be willing to do it.


	97. Childcare

"So, this is a little different that what I was expecting," Gaster said, leaning back against the wall of the room with a distinctly incredulous look on his face.

"I know," Zancrus said, running his hands through his perpetually disordered black hair. "I mean, did you guys see how… _nice_ he was being to all of us just now?"

"It wasn't really the niceness that got to me," Elegen said, crossing his arms and leaning back against the wall next to Gaster. "It was what he was _doing_. Did you guys see him in that hallway? He was _skipping_. I may not have spent that much time around the Overlords, since that was always your job." Elegen nodded in Zektor's direction, and Zektor smiled. "But I do know that Zoalords don't skip."

"And none of them would get so excited over a little thing like waffles, none of them would be caught dead carrying a stuffed animal, none of them would have slept in this late, none of them would have sat in my lap, none of-"

"Okay, okay; we get it already," Zancrus interrupted before Darzerb could get up any real momentum, and for that Zektor was extremely grateful. "He's definitely a strange one, but the real question is, do you guys think he has what it takes?"

"Not at the moment," Zektor said, thinking back on the way Lord Mirabilis had been acting ever since he woke up. "But that's where we come in. He's going to need to know the ins-and-outs of running this place, not to mention how to get the humans to actually _respect_ him." Zektor folded his arms over his chest, putting on what he liked to call his "resolve face". "And we're going to teach him how to do that."

The rest of Team Five had just agreed to Zektor's plan when Lord Mirabilis came sauntering out of his dressing room. Right away, Zektor noticed that something was wrong. Lord Mirabilis' outfit, while a tee-shirt and jeans was perfect for casual wear, wasn't going to work for him now that he was one of the Overlords.

"I don't think you're quite ready to go out and make your presence known out there, sir," Zektor said respectfully.

"What do you mean by that?" Lord Mirabilis asked, obviously genuinely curious and nothing more.

"You're not dressed right."

"What do you mean? I'm just having breakfast." Lord Mirabilis looked a bit petulant now, but Zektor knew that he couldn't just let this one go.

"I know you are, but you have to think of the impression you're trying to make on the humans now. The Zoanoids are going to be just fine with you leading them, just because of what you are. It's the humans you're going to have to think about making an impression on, because— none of this is really sinking in, is it?" Zektor asked, seeing the adorable look of confusion on Lord Mirabilis' face.

_Wait, I didn't just think of my new commanding Zoalord as adorable, did I?_ The realization that he had in fact done that very thing almost made Zektor slap himself on the forehead. Only the fact that Lord Mirabilis was watching him, and probably taking cues from him, judging by the intent look on the baby Zoalord's face, kept the leader of Team Five from acting on that thought.

"Why do I have to get all dressed up if all I'm going to do is go have breakfast? I don't get it."

"I'll explain it to you while I help you get dressed up right, okay?" Zektor asked, gently steering Lord Mirabilis back towards his dressing room.

"All right then," the baby Zoalord said as he and Zektor walked back into his dressing room together.

Zektor was hoping to get at least some idea of how to broach the subject of what Lord Mirabilis could expect now that he was one of the Chronos Overlords, but the kid wasn't really giving him anything at all. As Lord Mirabilis sat down on the cushy stool in front of his grooming mirror, Zektor made up his mind to just tell the Zoalord outright. No sense sugarcoating things, after all—it wasn't like anyone else was gonna do that, and Lord Mirabilis needed to get used to the way things were.

"You're going to have to get out of those clothes, you know," Zektor said, trying to be reasonable even as Lord Mirabilis stared at him, openly curious and obviously wanting answers.

"Why?"

"Because you have to change into your new outfit," Zektor said, hoping that that would convince him, and then they could go eat.

"Why?"

"Because you're not going to make a very good impression on the humans if you go out there wearing… well, _that_," Zektor said, gesturing at the utterly casual outfit that the Ninth Zoalord was wearing.

"Why do I have to worry about _that_?"

"Because you're the Overlord of this place now." Seeing the look of utter, bewildered incomprehension on Lord Mirabilis' face, Zektor realized something. "You really _aren't_ playing around here. Okay, first up, do you even know where you are now?"

"I'm back at Chronos, Japan Section, in Cloud Tower," Lord Mirabilis said, with such complete and utter certainty that he might as well have added "duh" to the end of his sentence.

"Not even in the right _hemisphere_, kidlet," Zektor said, pausing to bite his tongue and mentally slap himself in the face. He really should have remembered not to do that. "You're still in Chronos, so you at least got that right. But this is the _Africa_ Section, Nigeria main base. You're standing in _your_ office at the top of the _Genesis_ Tower."

"Wait a minute, how did I get all the way to Africa?"

"I don't know," Zektor admitted, folding his arms over his chest and leaning against Lord Mirabilis' dresser just enough to not be intimidating without being too casual. "Teleportation; a transport helicopter; maybe your dad flew you over. Point is, you're here now, and you've got a job to do." Seeing the way Lord Mirabilis was nodding, obviously taking in what Zektor was saying to him, the Hyper Zoanoid pressed on. "And you're not going to be able to do it very well if the humans don't respect you. And they aren't going to do that if you keep dressing like you are now."

"Oh. But why?"

"Look, you've noticed how your Dad dresses, haven't you?"

"Yeah."

"Well, the reason he wears those kinds of things is that he wants to make an impression on the humans who work for him."

"But Dad doesn't work with humans."

"Okay," Zektor said, absorbing that fact and wondering briefly just what it was that Lord Imakarum Mirabilis' job actually _was_. "Then he'd probably want to make a good impression on his fellow Zoalords, right?"

"I don't know, maybe," Lord Mirabilis shrugged, still looking confused about the whole thing.

"Well, there you go, then," Zektor said. "Now, let's get you out of those clothes so you can go eat, eh?"

"I'm not going to eat _naked_, silly," Lord Mirabilis said, smiling and laughing.

"Wha-" Mentally, Zektor reviewed the last full sentence he'd said. "Cute, kidlet." Damn, there was that nickname again. "You're also not going to go out in those weekend clothes, so off with 'em. I'll help you get into your uniform. And no, you don't have to change your underwear."

"But where's my uniform?"

"It's on the box on top of your vanity," Zektor said, turning away to give the Overlord of Chronos Nigeria at least _some_ privacy. "You see it?"

"Oh, here it is."

"Good, we'll open that up once you get out of your clothes." Zektor blushed lightly, thinking of what the obviously well built physique of his new Overlord would do to his composure. "I mean, _you'll_ open that thing up when you've got your clothes off. I think you'll be able to get into the shirt and pants on your own." Then, realizing that he was lusting after someone who was basically six years old, Zektor mentally bashed himself upside the head.

"What bad thoughts?"

"Nothing, Your Excellency. Nothing at all," Zektor said, folding his arms over his chest and trying _not_ to think.


	98. Respective Decisions

The sliding sounds of clothes being removed and the soft _thunk_ of someone kicking their shoes off let Zektor know that Lord Mirabilis had managed to get himself down to the… _ahem_, bare essentials. "Okay, now you can get the stuff out of the box, Your Excellency. Just remember, all you have to do is get into the shirt and pants. I'll help you get the jacket on."

"Okay."

Settling himself down to listen again, Zektor heard the little Overlord getting dressed in the new outfit that had been given… probably by the Council or someone who worked for them. Turning his head slightly, Zektor saw that Lord Mirabilis was just starting to pull on the pale blue shirt he'd been given to wear under his dark blue jacket. He also saw that Lord Mirabilis had one hell of a set of six-pack abs. _Hell, I'd take a bite out of that._

"Are you thinking about food?"

_Ack!_ "Sorry, sir. I guess I'm getting kind of hungry, myself." _I am not a pedophile. I am not a pedophile. I am not a pedophile. I. Am. Not. A. Pedophile. _"What's say I help you get into that jacket of yours, and then we go get that breakfast you wanted?"

"Stupid buttons," Zektor heard Lord Mirabilis mutter, obviously incensed by something.

_Eh?_ Turning to look squarely at Lord Mirabilis, Zektor saw that the little Overlord was fiddling with the row of buttons near the collar of his dress shirt. "You want some help with those?"

"Stupid buttons! I hate buttons. Dad never gave me anything with buttons."

"Hey!" When Lord Mirabilis looked up at him, Zektor spoke in a more reasonable tone. "You want me to give you some help with that?"

"Sure!"

Stepping up to Lord Mirabilis, Zektor took the lower part of the shirt's open collar and started to button up the row of buttons. Of course, this act entailed staring at the bare part of Lord Mirabilis' chest for a prolonged period of time. Lord Mirabilis was fairly ripped, and hairless—just the kinds of things that Zektor looked for… _No, damnit! _For one thing, this guy was his superior. For another, he personally was already involved.

Mostly there was the fact that this guy, Ingriam Mirabilis, Overlord of the Africa Section, had consistently proved that he was just a kid in a man's body, however the hell _that_ had been accomplished. Even _if_ Zektor had tried to make a move on him – _Which I won't!_ – the guy probably wouldn't even know what he was getting at. Biting the tip of his tongue to try and regain his focus, Zektor buttoned the last of the buttons with a bit more force than was strictly necessary.

"Now, if you'll just get your boots on, I'll help you with your jacket."

"All right," Lord Mirabilis said, happy again.

The kid was kinda mercurial, Zektor had to admit. Maybe it was because he was so young, or maybe that was just the way he was and it wouldn't matter if he'd been an actual adult or not. That would be pretty interesting, working for a guy who didn't hold grudges. Kinda nice, really; the more Zektor thought about it, the more he thought he could like working under Lord Mirabilis. For one thing, they guy never seemed to stay angry for long.

For another, he was pretty damn ho-_I am not going to think about that._ Watching Lord Mirabilis as he pulled on his boots and fastened up all the clasps on them – a good idea that, since Zektor didn't think Lord Mirabilis would have had the patience to deal with lace-up boots – Zektor saw him stand up.

"You look really good in that, you know."

"You mean it?" Lord Mirabilis asked, looking up at Zektor.

"Of course I mean it," Zektor said, slapping a companionable hand on Lord Mirabilis' left shoulder as he went to retrieve the dark blue suit jacket that his Overlord would be wearing from now on. "Those clothes were made for you. I mean that literally."

"Thanks!" Lord Mirabilis chirped happily.

"Anytime," Zektor said, turning a smile on his new Overlord. The kid really could be a little charmer, and it didn't even seem like he was trying. "Come on, Your Excellency, let's go show you off."

Wrapping an arm around his new Overlord's shoulders, Zektor led him out of his dressing room. The rest of Team Five was waiting for them there.

"Hey! The boss is back," Zancrus said, turning to grin at Chronos Africa's Overlord, newly dressed in his actual work clothes as opposed to something that was more suited to a weekend vacation. "And looking good, I see."

"Thanks!" Lord Mirabilis chirped, smiling happily at Zancrus and the rest of Team Five. Then he got the cutest little confused look on his face. "But who are all of you guys?"

Zektor, meanwhile, was mentally berating himself – for the umpteenth time – for thinking of his Overlord as cute. Chronos' Ninth Zoalord wasn't some kid that he'd been sent to babysit, not someone that he could brush off as cute. He was the new absolute ruler of this Section, a Zoalord who deserved his respect. It was just hard to remember that sometimes—_really_ hard.

"I'm Zektor, Your Excellency," Zektor introduced himself. "And these guys are the rest of my team: Zancrus—" The wiry, scruffy-haired Hyper Zoanoid waved to their Overlord. "Darzerb—" The large, dark-skinned, white-haired Hyper Zoanoid inclined his head respectfully. "Elegen—" The light-skinned, bald Hyper Zoanoid who Zektor was… particularly fond of grinned and bowed slightly. "And this guy with the pink hair is Gaster."

"Why does he have pink hair?" Lord Mirabilis asked, looking at Gaster in that cutely confused way he had.

Zektor just about slapped himself in the face for that: it just wasn't right to think of his commanding Overlord as cute, like he was some sort of soft, fuzzy thing that couldn't take care of himself. The kid was a _Zoalord_ for Chrissakes, and if one of those ultimately powerful beings couldn't take care of themselves, then the world as he knew it had just turned upside-down. He, personally, was just here to provide some backup muscle for Lord Mirabilis. He and the rest of Team Five were Lord Mirabilis' enforcers; they'd only be something more if Lord Mirabilis _told _them they were, and it was _past _time he started remembering that.

"'Cause that's the color it turned when I got out of the 'tank," Gaster said, grinning at their curious Overlord.

"Oh," Lord Mirabilis said. "Did all of _your_ hair fall out when you got let out of the processing-tank?" This question was, of course, directed at Elegen.

"Yeah," the brown-eyed Hyper Zoanoid said, nodding. "It kinda did. Even my eyebrows came out. I'm kinda completely hairless."

"You mean you've got no hair at all?" Lord Mirabilis asked, looking at Elegen as if he couldn't quite decide whether or not to laugh.

"Not even a strand," Elegen said, smirking in self-depreciating good humor. "It takes a while to get used to having no eyelashes, believe you me, sir."

This time, Lord Mirabilis _did_ giggle. That wasn't so bad, since Elegen _had_ been trying to be funny. Still, the fact was they were burning daylight here. It was time to get this little party back on track.

"Didn't you say that you wanted to have some breakfast?" Zektor asked.

"Oh?" Lord Mirabilis tilted his head in that way he did, Zektor was starting to realize, when he was just slightly confused. "Yeah!"

As their Overlord bounced lightly on the balls of his feet, obviously happy to be getting some food in him – something that Zektor himself fully agreed with – Zektor stepped forward and put a hand on his back.

"All right then," Zektor said, gently wrapping his arm around Lord Mirabilis' shoulders and squeezing lightly. "Let's go."

As the six of them made their way down to the main cafeteria that all Chronos' bases came equipped with, Zektor wondered what things were going to be like at Chronos Africa from now on. With this ki-Overlord, things were bound to be different than he was used to.


	99. Love and Pain

Imakarum, sitting by himself in the room that he had once shared with Kenji – a boy who now no longer existed in any real sense – brooded. Ingriam was probably fitting in well with the personnel of the Genesis Tower—at least those who were not subordinate to him. He would probably do well to put Ingriam out of his mind.

Still, it was hard; Kenji had been with him for so long. They had confided things to one another that no one else – save Lord Alkanphel, of course – was privileged to know, and Imakarum couldn't help but miss Kenji's constant presence by his side. Still, the fact remained that Ingriam Mirabilis was _not_ Kenji. Kenji was just a child; he needed his father to guide, love, and protect him. Ingriam was the Ninth Zoalord of Chronos; he was strong enough to stand on his own and did not need ties of family or affection to hold him back. Few Zoalords could afford such things.

In fact, Imakarum knew that none of the other Chronos Overlords had any family: either the passage of time had caught up to them, or the Zoalord in question had never started one in the first place. He was the only one who had any real children, though arguably every Zoalord was a child of Lord Alkanphel. Still, Imakarum was the only Zoalord in Chronos to have a child of his own blood who was still alive.

That made it all the harder for him to cut his ties with- with _Ingriam_ and let his son make a place for himself within Chronos. It was a father's first instinct to protect his children, and Imakarum's was all the more powerful for the fact that he only had _one_ child. If something happened… but that really wasn't likely. Ingriam would be well protected by the Zoanoids stationed at the Genesis Tower. It was, after all, the duty of every Zoanoid stationed there to make sure that their commanding Overlord was kept safe.

And Team Five was with him, adding further protection to that given by the thousands of Zoanoids and other personnel that staffed the Genesis Tower. He was probably just worrying unreasonably, the way he always tended to do when it came to his son's welfare. Imakarum knew that he would have to break himself of that habit if he was ever to work effectively with Chronos' new Ninth Zoalord. It would be hard, this new task that Imakarum had set for himself, but for his own sake and that of his son, he would find a way to do it.

XxXxX

He'd felt it when Luggnagg died. Kaburaal had probably felt it as well, and now Jearvill was wondering just what they were going to do about his killer. He had never expected that Imakarum's brat would have been able to kill one of the Overlords of Chronos, and now, just to make things all the more unusual, the brat had become one of the Overlords himself. Hiyern had at least thought that the brat would have been executed. Still, it was now patently obvious that Lord Alkanphel favored the little Zoalord. None of the other Overlords would have been granted such a reprieve after killing one of their own.

Seeing Luggnagg's throat torn open like that, and the bloody Zoacrystal that had once been implanted in his friend's head clenched in the claws of that—that little half-orphan _whelp_, had not been something that Jearvill had ever been prepared for. Kaburaal would doubtless agree that something needed to be done about the brat—something along the lines of killing _him_, perhaps. It _would_ be rather difficult to deal with the child, given the fact that Imakarum and Alkanphel both had a great deal of affection for him. Then again, that would just make it all the more gratifying when they were able to collect the brat's cold, stiff corpse.

It would be somewhat difficult to find a new scapegoat, making the loss of the late Commander all the more irksome. That man, with his ill-concealed ambitions and complete lack of self-preservation instinct, had made a perfect distraction for the once-trio. Their own ambitions were much more long-term and a great deal better concealed from the ever-watchful presence of Lord Alkanphel.

That Luggnagg, who had been the one to plan most of what they wanted to do with their newfound power, had been the one killed by a boy whose mind was not yet old enough to truly comprehend just what kind of power he had at his disposal rankled. Still, at times Luggnagg could be as rash as Gyou. Those times _had_ been limited to when he thought that every element of the situation in question could be made to work in his favor.

The fact that he had been alone with Fried'rich van Purg'stall, one of the most loyal of Alkanphel's loyalist followers – someone who would have to be eliminated in any case – had obviously proved to be too much of a temptation for him. The presence of Imakarum's brat may or may not have influenced Luggnagg's decision, but it was still a moot point, since the boy was going to die anyway, as soon as a method of execution was found that would not immediately – or, preferably ever – implicate either Kaburaal or himself in the process.

XxXxX

It was a strange situation, but then Chronos had always been a strange organization, and Dr. Jessica Ash had gotten used to it by now. She and all her fellow scientists – researchers, development technicians, gene-grafters and -splicers, and even the field biologists that Chronos Africa employed – had been called back from their assignments and sent up to the large main meeting rooms. Not all of them at once, of course, both since all of them had jobs of their own to take care of within Chronos' Africa Section and because there was simply no way to fit all of them in a room that size at once. Instead, small to middle-sized groups of scientists and techs had been called up throughout the day. Now it was her turn.

Dr. Ash had been hearing rumors that the present Overlord of this Section, one Luggnagg De Krumeggnik, had been displaced—by a new Zoalord, no less. That was odd, since Dr. Ash hadn't heard any reports that a new Zoalord had been developed.

The candidate selection alone would have been the subject of a great deal of speculation, and this base had the same well-established grapevine/gossip chain as any Chronos base that had been in operation as long as the Genesis Tower had. There had been nothing, aside from the usual day-to-day things: who was making the most progress on their current project, which animal or insect forms could be used to develop the strongest types of new Zoanoids, which of them might possibly be up for a promotion next.

Taking care to organize her research notes, in case whoever wanted to speak with her asked what project she was working on, Dr. Ash turned as she heard someone speaking about the Overlord of this place.

"What was that you were talking about?" she asked, making her way up to a knot of lower-level genetic researchers who were speaking in low tones.

"Hello, Dr. Ash," Dr. Alonzo Calvari greeted her, ducking his head respectfully, as well he might: Dr. Ash was three grades above him.

Also, Dr. Calvari was more interested in the theories involved with genetic engineering rather than the application. He would probably have been more content at the Antarctica Research Station if they could have been convinced to take on a low-level genetic researcher like him. Calvari would either have to work his way up to the grade where he was eligible to ask for a transfer, or he would have to learn to deal with the realities of working in the Genesis Tower's labs. Dr. Ash wasn't particularly concerned with what route Dr. Calvari would choose, but for now the man had information that she was interested in.

"Dr. Calvari," she acknowledged. "What was that you were saying? Something about a new Overlord here?" She raised an eyebrow, waiting for Calvari to answer her question.

"I've met him," Calvari said, an expression of perplexed curiosity on his face. "He's… well, he's kind of strange. Even for an Overlord. He seems to be taking most of his cues from the leader of that Hyper Zoanoid Team Five—you know, the one that was developed in Arizona?"

Dr. Ash nodded to indicate her comprehension. The Hyper Zoanoid Team Five was very well known to the upper echelons of which Dr. Ash was working to make herself a part. They had originally been merely a team of elite Hyper Zoanoid soldiers: the original five had not even had the same human forms as these new iterations. This variant of Team Five had been developed to combat a rogue Proto-Zoalord that had been making trouble for Chronos in that area.

The Proto-Zoalord had, in fact, been one of the ones used to finalize the development of the late Commander Gyou's own Zoalord form. Dr. Ash hadn't been able to learn anything more about the Proto-Zoalord in question, whether he was dead or had been dealt with in some other manner, so for the time being she focused on her work. The processing of Sleeper Units took a great deal of concentration, after all.

"I know of them," Dr. Ash confirmed.


	100. Matter of Pride

"Well, they were all gathered in the main conference room behind the new Overlord, who, judging by his accent I would say is Japanese, and _they_ seemed to be in charge of the interrogation." Calvari paused for a moment, looking as though he was in deep thought. "Actually, I don't think 'interrogation' is really the right word to use. It almost seemed like they were introducing him to the staff."

"I'd think that was pretty normal, given the fact that this guy's new and all," Dr. Hana Saberwal put in.

Dr. Saberwal was even lower ranked than Dr. Calvari, but she was new, so that kind of thing could be forgiven. It was when her fellow scientists didn't even make the slightest effort to advance their positions that Dr. Ash got annoyed with them.

"Dr. Ash?" one of the secretarial staff called. "It's time for your group to go up now."

"Of course," she said, nodding and heading toward the elevator.

It would be very interesting to meet this new Overlord of theirs. As she headed into the elevator, tucking her notes into her labcoat to let her carry them more easily, Dr. Ash stepped inside the elevator and pressed the button that would carry them all up to the meeting place. She wondered briefly about what Dr. Calvari had said about their new Overlord, but then, his opinions didn't particularly matter. He _was_ still several grades lower than she, after all.

XxXxX

Gaster – who had been given no particular work to do but had come into the room anyway because where one of Team Five went, all of Team Five went, at least when they could – stood in the back of the room and just watched. The kid, their _Overlord_, was really cute. Confused and looking to Zektor for cues on what he should do, but pretty cute nonetheless.

The fact that Zancrus had found the ki- _Overlord_ a pair of wraparound sunglasses to wear was good: it made him look just that little bit more mysterious and grown up. Still, anyone who listened to him when he was alone with Team Five would know what he was. Well, if they didn't end up thinking he was mildly retarded or crazy or something like that. Of course, if they ended up thinking anything like that, he would have to kill them.

Watching as the next group of scientists came in, led by a dark-skinned woman with a hairstyle that consisted of an uncountable number of small braids tied back into a ponytail, Gaster subtly studied them. It was extremely difficult for him get his mind off the lead doctor's hair, however. It was a really elaborate hairstyle, and Gaster had to wonder just how the hell she found the time to put it up that way every morning. It seemed like there would be a lot of better uses of her time, her being a Chronos scientist and all, than putting her hair up every morning, especially in an obviously time-consuming style like _that._

As little Lord Mirabilis greeted her with the same understated manner that Zektor had worked to instill in him, he and all of the others just stood around looking vaguely menacing while Zektor took charge of the questioning. Gaster still wanted to know what was going on with her hair, though, so once Zektor was done questioning her group but before he could dismiss them, Gaster stepped forward and confronted her.

"What are you doing, Gaster?" Zektor asked, turning to look at him as he stepped forward.

"Just give me a sec, okay, boss?"

Zektor looked a bit dubious, but he wordlessly stepped back behind Lord Mirabilis' desk and folded his arms—his usual "I'm being very intimidating here" pose.

"What did you want to speak about, sir?" the woman – Dr. Ash, judging by the name on her tag – asked.

"Your hair, nor to put too fine a point on things," Gaster said, mimicking Zektor's usual "interrogation" voice as best he could.

"You want to know about my hair?" Dr. Ash seemed more resigned than confused by Gaster's line of questioning, a fact that didn't go unnoticed by the Hyper Zoanoid himself.

"I take it you've gotten a lot of questions on the subject?"

"Well…" Dr. Ash seemed a bit embarrassed for a moment, but before Gaster could do much more than wonder about the cause of the feeling, she'd started speaking again. "It's like this, really: Dr. Andrews noticed that I tend to fall asleep at my desk, sometimes. And we all know that guy has a strange sense of humor; we have a standing agreement that, if he can style my hair without me waking up, I'll wear it that way for the rest of my day."

"You must be some kind of deep sleeper, then," Zancrus said, chuckling, and Gaster couldn't help but agree with his smaller friend's assessment.

Dr. Ash was a bit more candid about the situation. "I'm one of the Sleeper Techs, sir. Owing to our circumstances, we don't usually get much in the way of normal bed-rest. So when I do get the chance to conk out, I don't wake up very easily."

"Oh," Gaster said, chuckling a bit himself. "I guess that's understandable."

"All right, Dr. Ash," Zektor said, stepping forward from his place behind and just to the right of Lord Mirabilis' desk. "You and your subordinates are free to go now."

"Thank you," she said, bowing slightly. "It was nice meeting you, sirs; Your Excellency."

With those as her last words, Dr. Ash led the rest of her group out of Lord Mirabilis' office. When a thought struck Gaster, something that he berated himself for not having thought of before, he turned back to their young Overlord.

"Hey, you _do_ know what a Sleeper Unit is, right boss?" Gaster asked, feeling slightly uneasy at the idea of explaining Sleeper Units to a little kid.

"Yeah. Dad told me about them; he said that they were Zoanoids who didn't really _know _that they were Zoanoids." A look of confusion and something else that Gaster couldn't really identify came over the kid's face then. "Of course, Dad always used to shoot them when he found out they were there. And he once told me that they were bad," it took only a few seconds for the confusion that Gaster had glimpsed briefly to vanish, but it was replaced by a blankly dazed expression that the pink-haired Hyper Zoanoid definitely didn't like the look of.

"Kid, y'all right there?"

And then the look was gone; their Overlord was smiling like he hadn't a care in the world. "Alkanphel says I shouldn't worry about that, though."

"Alkanphel?" Zektor asked, looking askance at their Overlord.

"Yeah." Gaster saw the expression on their Overlord's face change to one of honest confusion. "You mean you've never heard of Alkanphel?"

"I know that Dr. Balkus is the highest authority that Chronos has, at least in the area of developing new Zoanoids," Zektor said, "but I've never heard of someone above him."

"Silly, Alkanphel's the one who leads Chronos," Lord Mirabilis said, giggling at the leader of Team Five. "Mr. Balkus is his Second; Alkanphel told me so himself!"

"Wow," Zancrus said, suitably awed. "You mean you're _that _close to the guy who leads the _entire_ Chronos organization?"

"Uh-huh," Lord Mirabilis said cheerfully, nodding while Gaster and the others attempted not to freak out too severely.

If this – it had to be said – _kid_ was really that close to the Supreme Overlord of all of Chronos, then it was no wonder he'd been given this kind of a fast-track promotion at his age. Hell, the kid was practically the prince of the organization, being the obvious darling of Supreme Overlord Alkanphel and all.

"What about your dad?" Zektor asked, wanting to know all the angles the way he usually did. "What's his connection to the Supreme Overlord?"

"Oh, Alkanphel likes him, too," Lord Mirabilis said blithely, smiling. "But Dad has to keep an eye on all the other branches of Chronos and make sure that the scientist-people there are doing things right, so I don't get to see him so much."

"Oh," Zektor said, nodding in a way that suggested to Gaster that he was on the verge of freaking out. "I guess that makes sense."

_Stock answer; translates to "I have no idea what you just said, so I'm just going to agree with you to save myself some trouble and/or a headache,"_ Gaster mused as he chuckled. Zektor was probably trying to keep himself from either gawking or fainting again, though their boss would be the last one to ever admit that he'd actually _fainted_. That was part of what made Zektor who he was, though: he had a lot of pride—in his status as a Hyper Zoanoid; in his team as a whole; in the fact that he was the leader of Team Five; and in the fact that he himself was the kind of guy you could count on to get the job done, whether that job was guarding the higher-ups, tracking down and assassinating people Chronos had a beef with, or even teaching an inexperienced baby Zoalord the ropes of handling the base he'd been put in charge of. When they had been given a job, Team Five would get it done.

That was just the way things worked.


	101. Searching for Perfection

Work down in the Genesis Tower's main processing labs went on as usual, all except for one minor difference. Minor, that is, in the grand scheme of things. To the processing technicians and scientists working on the project, it was very important. Unlike some of their higher-ranked coworkers, this group had not been called in to meet with Team Five and their supervisor, the new head of Chronos' Africa Section.

They were working on a new type of female Zoanoid, one that would be comparable to the Hyper Zoanoid types. None of the old models could hope to compete with the Hypers in anything but speed. In fact, the female Zoanoids were the only models that could consistently outrun the Hyper Zoanoids – most models at least – over various kinds of terrain.

Most of the labs on this floor were dedicated to producing new types of Standard Zoanoids, but there were a select few that had been given over to research and development of new Hyper- and female Zoanoid types. This was the first – and to date the only – laboratory that was devoted to creating a hybrid of the two types. A female Hyper Zoanoid would be ideal for Chronos' plans in the long run, especially given the possible combinations of Hyper traits that bred into the next generation.

Crossing a Razell with a Ranza produced offspring with higher athleticism, enhanced agility when compared with a normal human, and a natural affinity for both running and climbing. Crossing a Ramochis with a Sharru produced more physically robust offspring, with an affinity for either wrestling or swimming, depending on the child's personal preferences. Even more combinations were possible, but still the coupling of a Hyper Zoanoid and even an enhanced female Zoanoid would result in offspring slightly weaker than the Hyper but only slightly stronger than the female.

It was well known that two Hyper Zoanoids would produce a much stronger child than a Hyper Zoanoid and a Standard Zoanoid, just as two Zoanoids produced a stronger child than a Zoanoid and a human. That was why these technicians were working to develop a female of the type. Cloning and gene-splicing, while they _could _be used to develop new Hyper Zoanoids, cost too much in time and resources to be a viable way of propagating the breed.

Of course, given what had happened in Chronos lately, with Lord Imakarum Mirabilis declaring his son a part of the organization, some of the more theory-inclined techs had started to wonder just what kind of a child the coupling of a Zoalord and a female Zoanoid would produce. Even a Proto-Zoalord would be suitable for this kind of experiment. After all, their shortened lifespan was due to their increased rate of cellular metabolism and not to any kind of damage to their DNA during processing.

It would be very interesting to find out just what kind of offspring a coupling between a Proto-Zoalord and a Hyper Zoanoid would produce, which was why a few of them had put in orders for a pair of dummy Zoacrystals in their next shipment of materials. One would be used to develop a Proto-Zoalord whose genetic material would then be crossed with some of the more robust female Zoanoids. The other would be used to process Chronos' first female Proto-Zoalord.

Her genetic material would be combined with one of the Hyper Zoanoids, since the female Hyper Zoanoid that was being developed would doubtless need a great deal of study and testing before she was ready to be accepted as a finished Hyper Zoanoid model. It would be very useful to Chronos' future goals to have a previously untapped source of Hyper Zoanoid stock suddenly made available for processing. Of course, there was bound to be a small pool of those who were qualified to become female-variant Hyper Zoanoids, just as there were a select few people who could become normal Hyper Zoanoids.

It had been easier than expected to convince the Sleeper Techs to divert some of their raw materials for the project. None of the people being studied would be missed for some time, and Chronos was _very _good at falsifying documentation. Besides, if any of them were killed during processing – or after, as would have to be done with the two Proto-Zoalords – there would be no one asking about them as there would be in other places. After all, tourists disappeared all the time.

But for now, there was work to be done on their new Hyper Zoanoid type. This would make it the only one of its kind, and some might say that that was all the qualification that she needed to be considered a Lost Number.

Those people were idiots.

There were enough differences between a Zoanoid prototype and a Lost Number that the comparison was completely moot. Apples to oranges, really, and anyone who couldn't see that deserved to be demoted.

As the processing technicians hurried about their tasks, checking and rechecking the prototype's vital signs and making adjustments to the amniotic fluid she was resting in, they were also taking the time to refine the form that had been chosen for her. Someone had suggested the name Samarubu for the prototype. The name had stuck, and so Chronos' first female Hyper Zoanoid would be named Samarubu.

It had been agreed upon that – for now at least – Samarubu would be an upgraded version of a standard female Zoanoid. She would have all of the characteristics of a normal Zoanoid of her kind – enhanced speed, endurance and stamina - but they would be pushed to their absolute limits during the process. Once this prototype version had been proven viable, a group of them could be created and bred with Hyper Zoanoids who had been specifically selected for their various attributes.

The offspring of the various couplings would be invaluable research subjects. It would be their characteristics that would decide once and for all whether the Samarubu-type would be the only ones of their kind, or if an entire range of female-variant Hyper Zoanoids were worth the time and recourses necessary to produce them in numbers comparable to their male-variant counterparts.

As the retroviruses went to work altering the woman's genetic structure, the attendant processing technicians continued about their work monitoring and working to control the Zoaformation process of their newest creation. The first metabolic spike was greeted with a pleasant sense of accomplishment, a sign that their work on this new Zoaform was paying off; likewise, the second. The third wasn't deemed a cause for any alarm, either. It was only when the prototype's metabolic rate spiked for a fourth time that the gathered scientists began to become concerned about the development of the Samarubu prototype.

"Her metabolic rate is rising erratically; heartbeat is starting to become irregular," Dr. Sylar said, from his post monitoring the vital signs of the prototype.

"We'll try to stabilize it. Just keep us updated, Halling."

"Yes, sir."

Turning back to his monitoring station, Dr. Sylar began to notice something else that was odd about the Samarubu prototype.

"The fluid temperature is rising rapidly!" Dr. Lukas shouted, even as Dr. Sylar looked more closely at his own monitoring apparatus.

There had to be a reason for the fluid temperature to be rising this fast—there _had_ to be!

"Try to lower the fluid temperature! If it gets much higher, the specimen won't survive!"

_What?_ "It's the prototype itself that's causing the temperature fluctuations! Her body temperature is rising steadily now; the fluid is the only thing keeping her from dying of hyperthermia!"

A half-minute later, the readout on his console fizzled out. Attempting to reboot the system produced no results. "I've lost the readouts; what's happened?"

"I don't _believe_ this!" Dr. Kalveson shouted. "The monitoring devices have been _melted_ by the prototype's body heat!"

The Samarubu prototype, once peacefully sleeping in the processing-tank she had been put in, began to twitch and move fitfully within the 'tank. The amniotic liquid, once slightly cooler than room temperature, began to simmer and then boil as the Samarubu prototype began to heat up from the inside. The Plexiglas of the processing-tank began to vibrate imperceptibly as the bubbles began to grow larger and larger as the amniotic fluid heated up.

There was a kind of barely restrained chaos permeating the laboratory now, with the technicians and scientists all racing to try and regain some small modicum of their control over the outcome of the Samarubu prototype's processing. It was now generally accepted that this test-type was going to be a Lost Number, good only for study and further experimentation, but none of them wanted to be caught in the shrapnel from a processing-tank's explosion, and one was inevitable if they did not find some way to bring the fluid temperature back down below boiling.

There were spreading cracks in the body of the processing-tank now, and some of the fluid had even started to vaporize. This resulted in the shell of the tank starting to bulge in the center, and the weakened structure, combined with the cracks and the heat and the steadily mounting pressure caused the processing-tank to detonate with the force of a bomb. Boiling amniotic fluid, filled with the jagged shrapnel of what had once been a standard sized processing-tank, deluged the laboratory.

The scientists nearest to the processing-tank – Drs. Anton Kalveson, Harley Dent, and Halling Sylar – were scalded to death by the superheated liquid. The rest of the technicians were left severely injured but alive. In the rough center of what had been the laboratory, in the remains of the processing-tank that had held her, the Lost Number Samarubu crouched. Her body was alight with incandescent light and blazing fire.

If anyone had been alive or even conscious to make the comparison, they probably would have said that Samarubu's Zoaform bore a great deal of resemblance to the Human Torch. That is, if they had even been able to look close enough to see the similarities through the near-blinding light that her body was emitting.


	102. Bounds of Rationality

It was something that she was even awake, considering what those people – though that term was of questionable applicability when used for those shitheads – had been doing to her when she'd passed out. The fact that she was even able to move under her own power was also something to be excited about. Given some of the syringes and tools and shit those sickos had been waving around just before they'd put her out, Deborah hadn't even been sure that she was going to wake up _at all._

She felt like she was in pretty good shape—not just pretty good considering what had happened, but pretty damn good overall. Whatever had happened during the time that she'd been out, it had given her a tremendous boost in energy. She didn't think that she had ever felt quite this good, except for maybe those times just before recess at school. But that had been a long time ago, back when she was just a kid.

As a scriptwriter, she really didn't get much of a chance to get out and exercise, though that was also partially due to her own sedentary nature. She'd figured that going to Africa would be a good way to broaden her horizons, but she'd never figured on getting captured by a bunch of guys who could give the mad scientist in those old films she liked a run for their money in sheer inventive nastiness. But then, they always said that truth was stranger than fiction.

The fact that her vision was tinted noticeably red and there was a weird feeling beneath her feet – like she was standing on mud, only she was very clearly inside a building – sank in then. Standing back up, she only then really noticed that she had been crouching for some reason. Once she was back on her feet, the feeling like she's been sinking in mud didn't go away. If anything, it got even worse now that she was putting her full weight on her feet.

"What the holy, ever loving, tin plated _fuck_?" This was in response to looking down at her feet and finding that they were, for all intents and purposes, on fire.

Or maybe _made of fire_, since she couldn't actually feel any heat radiating from them at all. Looking up towards her legs, Deborah found that they were in the same condition as her feet. When she looked at her hands, it was to find that the same effect had been repeated there, and on her arms as well. Reaching up to touch her face, Deborah found that she couldn't tell whether or not her face or head had been affected the same way as the rest of her.

When someone else came into the room, tinted red in her vision like everything else, Deborah paused in her self-examination. There was now a man standing in the room with her, but she couldn't see much more than his basic shape through the red haze. She almost thought he was wearing a suit.

"Hey- whoa," the man—definitely a man from the sound of his voice—said.

Then he started to change, shredding the suit he'd been wearing and becoming some kind of giant beetle creature. Deborah was a bit more surprised than she would have been under anything that resembled normal circumstances, but considering what had just happened to her, this didn't shock her all that much.

"Are you all right over there?" he asked.

"I-" She paused, getting severely annoyed for some reason. "I'm on fire, you idiot! Do I _look_ like I'm all right?!"

"No, but you're starting to sound like it," the beetle-man said, chuckling heartily, which only pissed her off more. "If you're well enough to complain about what's happened to you, then you're well enough to walk. Now get to it."

Deborah gritted her teeth, angry for no real reason. The buggy-guy was trying to help her, irritating as he may very well have been. There wasn't any cause for her to be snapping at him. Looking down at her feet, she found that the standing-in-mud feeling she had gotten was coming from the molten remains of the metal that she had been standing on. She'd known that her feet were on fire, but to see that the flames were hot enough to melt solid metal… that was just _strange_.

"Well, are you coming or not?"

"I'll be there. Keep your shell on, beetle-breath," she snapped.

"Beetle-breath," he repeated, chuckling. "That's one I haven't heard before."

Rolling her eyes, Deborah continued forward. The sound and feel of metal melting beneath her feet as she walked made her slightly uneasy, but she took a deep breath and tried to ignore it. Moving across the melting floor – the floor that she was _causing_ to melt – Deborah made it to where the buggy-guy was waiting for her.

"All right, that's good," he said, and as he reached out to her she got the impression that he'd be grinning if his mouth worked that way. "Now, if you'll just come along with- Jesus _fuck_!"

That was said in response to her grabbing his hand. Now he leapt back, probably burned by contact with her skin. Her skin that was _on goddamn fire_!

"Having problems, beetle-breath?"

"The fuck kind of Zoanoid _are _you?!" he demanded, looking at his hand and then back at her. "I've had my body engineered specifically to resist high temperatures! Maybe not as high as Darzerb can stand—" Beetle-breath seemed to be talking to himself now, so Deborah just stood, listening and watching and wondering just who the hell he was talking about. "But that actually _hurt_."

"Hey, beetle-breath, are you going to help me out here, or are you just going to stand there kvetching and talking to people who obviously aren't there?"

"Hyper Zoanoids don't _kvetch_, flame face," beetle-breath said, sounding somewhere between amused and annoyed. "Just hang tight. I'm going to go get Darzerb, and then he'll get you out of there; just try not to melt the floor any worse, hear me?" he tossed over his shoulder as he started out of the room again.

_Beetle brained little bastard,_ she grumbled internally. Okay, so he'd been probably three or four feet taller than she, and just about twice as broad, but she stood by what she had said.

When said little bastard came back into the room leading some kind of huge, gray rhino-looking guy, Deborah abruptly decided that nothing else she saw would ever surprise her again. First there had been the kidnapping itself; she hadn't known just why anyone would want to kidnap a TV scriptwriter like her, unless it was some crazed fan who had a problem with the way one of her plots had turned out, but none of the people – if they really could be called "people" anymore given what they could do – struck her as the kind who would be caught watching daytime TV. Maybe they did; maybe on whatever off-time they had, they would all gather around their various television sets and watch soaps. She didn't think it was really all that plausible, but in a place _this_ weird, who really knew what was plausible anymore?

XxXxX

The fact that this… bizarre new Zoanoid – a _female _Zoanoid no less – had been able to burn his hand didn't make him as annoyed as someone who knew him would have thought. This girl had probably been one of the Hyper Zoanoid prototypes that the tech guys were working on. Having actual _female_ Hyper Zoanoids around would be kind of interesting, though he suspected that some of the guys would be more interested in that kind of thing than he was. They were the ones who spent every spare moment chasing skirts, after all.

Once Darzerb had gotten a good hold on her, picking the lady up so her feet wouldn't melt any more holes in the floor – something that he would have done himself if she hadn't burned him when he tried to touch her – Zektor led them out of the laboratory. He'd check on the lab jockeys who'd been in the room working on her later. It looked like most of them were dead – scalded or burned or impaled or just plain bled out from dozens of wounds – but there were still a few moving around.

If they were still alive when he got back, he'd pick them up and take them to the infirmary. If not, he'd just toss them down the nearest incinerator chute with the rest of the garbage. It wasn't like anyone would miss them or they couldn't be easily replaced, but for now, he wanted to get some information on the new girl.

There was no way she could be anything but a Lost Number—not with the way the 'tank she'd been in had splattered itself all over the floor—so she'd have to be shoved someplace where she wouldn't cause any trouble to the Zoanoids who were actually _useful_ to the organization. She'd probably be stuck down in the lower labs with the rest of the freaks that were being studied to see if Chronos could get any actual _use_ out of them. Still, it'd be interesting to at least see what the little lady was originally supposed to be. Just for kicks, really.


	103. Resolution

The sense of another Zoalord in the Tower, one who was _definitely_ not the kidlet, made Zektor forget what he had been curious about originally and make for the kidlet's room. That's where the signal was coming from, and Zektor wondered for a moment just what one of the other Overlords would be coming to see Lord Ingriam for. That was the only reason that he could think of for one of the other Overlords to come to the Tower.

Now that he was making his way back into the upper levels where the kidlet was staying, Zektor started to get a decent idea of just how powerful this visiting Zoalord was. It was only one—only one of the other Overlords had come to oversee the operations of the Genesis Tower. That was good; that meant that he would only have to explain the kidlet's condition to _one_ other Overlord.

That was even better, since he wasn't quite sure how he was going to explain the kidlet's condition to even _one_. Of course, there was always the chance that the other Overlords already knew about the kidlet. That would make his job a hell of a lot easier, but he couldn't really count on them knowing something like that. Harsh as the Overlords could sometimes be, he couldn't really see any of them condoning the processing of a kid, and there was no mistaking what the kidlet was once you met him.

With those thoughts—not particularly comforting ones at that—still running through his mind, Zektor stepped into the elevator and hit the button that would take him to the top floor of the Tower. Once he'd made it back there, the subtle feeling of _wrongness_ that had been starting to bother him when he'd been in the elevator became almost unbearable. When he realized that it was coming from the kidlet's room, he threw aside whatever little propriety there was in a situation like this and barged in.

XxXxX

The sound of the door slamming into the wall would have likely been enough to distract any lesser Zoalord from their present task. But he was not any lesser Zoalord, and so he continued with his self-imposed task. It was all very well for Imakarum's child to behave the way he did when he was under the care of Chronos' Twelfth Zoalord, or even when he was simply staying in Cloud Tower on his own.

Now that the boy had joined the ranks of Chronos' grand Council, however, it was time for his childish ways to be put aside. Still, the boy was very loyal to Lord Alkanphel, and the few things he had learned about the running of the corporation had not turned him against their grand plans. Still, that did not mean he was going to be persuaded not to complete his task regarding the boy. Kenji Murakami's time on this world would have to end if Imakarum's son was going to be of any use to the Chronos syndicate. He would not be swayed from his work no matter how much noise the boy made, no matter how young Ingriam whined or cried, sobbed or screamed.

The sense of a Hyper Zoanoid moving quickly in his direction made Balkus look up from his work for a moment. Zektor, whose presence at this base had not been cleared with him, was standing in the hallway outside the room. The Hyper Zoanoid looked shocked, but surely he did not expect a mere _child_ – Zoalord or not – to be in command of even a single branch of Chronos and all of the Zoanoids therein. He could not have been so sentimental or so stupid as to believe something like that.

Still, there remained the question of just what the Hyper Zoanoid wanted and why he was staring so intently at young Ingriam. It was most likely nothing important, so Dr. Balkus dismissed the Hyper Zoanoid from his thoughts. He needed all of his focus to effect the rebuilding of the child-Zoalord's mind. He could ill-afford distractions at a moment like this.

XxXxX

Moving was like wading through cold peanut butter, but seeing the kidlet so obviously in pain and needing help spurred him on despite the fact that he could barely muster the will to make his limbs actually _move_. Even though the one doing this to the kidlet was Dr. Balkus himself – and hence he was more than likely to get himself in Deep Shit for trying to interfere with whatever it was the old Zoalord was doing – he was going to get it done. He liked the kidlet just the way he was: there would be plenty of time to train him to be the kind of Zoalord that would do Chronos and his dad proud. It wasn't like they were pressed for time in any respect. The Guyvers weren't anywhere in the area, and there weren't any aspects of running this base that really _required _a Zoalord's direct oversight.

"So you think you can teach this… _child_ all he needs to know about being a part of Chronos' grand Council before the Guyvers inevitably find their way here?"

"I'm sure I can, sir," he said realizing even as he did so that they could be the last words he ever said.

Dr. Balkus wasn't known for his compassion, and he'd never been one to tolerate insubordination—even a Hyper Zoanoid had to know the limits. Now he was pushing them, but this was worth the risk. The kidlet deserved a chance to grow up normally – at least for a certain skewed definition of normal – and that wasn't going to happen if he let Dr. Balkus finish whatever kind of… psychic lobotomy he had planned. If that meant he was going to have to stir up some shit with the Second Zoalord, so be it.

"So you truly think that you can handle the task you have set for yourself?" Dr. Balkus repeated.

"Yeah, that's right," he said, trying not to sound arrogant but merely sure. Most people wouldn't be willing to challenge _the_ Dr. Balkus this way, but there were more things at stake here than just one guy's life. "I swear I can do this, Dr. Balkus. There'll be no trouble teaching the kid how to run things at this base."

"And if there is?"

"I'll take care of that, too," he said, knowing that not only would His Excellency Imakarum track him down and rip out his entrails if he let anything like what Doc Balkus was planning happen, the kidlet deserved at least _some_ kind of chance.

"Very well," the old Zoalord said, not sounding particularly enthused about the idea. "I will leave this boy's education in your hands. Do not disappoint me."

Without even a word—not that Zektor had been really expecting anything of the sort—Dr. Balkus teleported out. Not wasting any time thinking of the old Zoalord who wasn't there anymore, he moved quickly to help _his_ Zoalord. The kidlet looked thoroughly wrung-out; not surprising considering what he had just been through, but not really all that comforting, either.

"Just take it easy," he said, pitching his voice low to try and reassure the kidlet. "I'll take care of you." He smiled. "What's say I take you back to your room so you can sleep this off? I'll even tuck you in, all right?"

The kidlet's eyes, still kind of glazed from what he had been put through – or nearly had, at any rate – dilated for a moment before they finally seemed to focus on him. He knew the kidlet probably wouldn't be up to talking for a while. No one could really expect him to recover so quickly from nearly having his mind ripped apart like that. It was at that moment that Zektor made a silent vow. He didn't know exactly where the hell Imakarum was or when the other Zoalord was going to come back, but until that time _he_ would take care of the kidlet.

He would make sure that little Lord Ingriam – His Excellency Ingriam Mirabilis – knew exactly what being a full Zoalord and a member of the Council of Twelve entailed. His Excellency Imakarum had left the kidlet with him, had left the little Zoalord in his care, and Zektor was determined that he wouldn't screw this up. Ingriam was going to have to learn just what it took to be one of Chronos' Overlords.

But all that was for later. Right now he had to get the kidlet to bed. _Poor thing; it's going to take awhile for him to settle in, but he'll have all of us behind him._ Looking down at the slumbering form of his Overlord in his arms, Zektor smiled softly.

This wasn't going to be a walk in the park, but nothing worth doing was easy.

**End: _The Birth of Guyver V_**

**The saga continues in _Meeting Places_**


End file.
